


Homegrown

by casuallyhl



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Fluff, Gardens & Gardening, M/M, Minor panic attack, Smut, Strangers to Friends to Lovers, naked singalongs to abba
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-29
Updated: 2017-07-29
Packaged: 2018-11-18 11:31:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 51,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11289849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/casuallyhl/pseuds/casuallyhl
Summary: “It wasn’t an easy decision, if I’m honest,” Harry admits, shoulders sagging in on himself. “Moving is really difficult. My whole life was in Manchester. But Manchester didn’t want me. Leeds did.”“Well, Leeds is happy to have you,” Louis says, giving Harry a kind smile.Harry brightens a bit at that, undeniably pleased. “Yeah?”“Yeah,” Louis replies, expression soft and lips curved.Or, a gardening AU where Harry is new to town and the newest volunteer at the local gardening club, Louis is the attractive grandson of one of the members, and the nosy volunteers hatch a plan to get them together.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [allwaswell16](https://archiveofourown.org/users/allwaswell16/gifts).



> The Leeds Horticultural Society is a real organization, but I am not affiliated with them in any way. As well with Bramley Park, it is a real place, but I have taken creative liberty with its layout and features. 
> 
> Please forgive any inaccuracies in regards to gardening. While I have done research, I am not an avid gardener, so all mistakes are my own.
> 
> After multiple discussions with Brits, I was unable to reach a singular conclusion on the difference between tank top/vest/wife beater. So I have gone with the term tank top. If you're still confused (or just want to enjoy the beauty of Louis in tank tops because you're just a human unable to resist the sun's rays), then [here](http://casuallyhl.tumblr.com/search/louis+in+tank+tops) you go. 
> 
> Many thanks to my beta [Rachel](http://scholasticdreamer.tumblr.com/) for supporting me with this fic. Thank you for believing in it before I did. 
> 
> For allwaswell16. I hope you enjoy this fic, because it was an absolute joy for me to write. I fell in love with these characters and their story, and I hope you do too.
> 
> Dedicated to all the recent graduates and a reminder that it's okay not to have everything figured out xx

The earth is soft under Harry’s hands, giving easily as he digs into the ground, dirt sliding under his fingernails.

Harry removes the soil, leaving a small, round hole in the ground. He places the dirt on the ground next to his carton of bulbs before gently prying one bulb from the package.

It’s late March and daffodils have already begun blossoming all over England. Every park, every garden, every uninhabited patch of grass seems to be growing daffodils. Harry even has a vase of them sitting on his mantle in his flat, even though he is embarrassed to admit he didn’t grow them himself. Without a communal garden space in his block of flats, he settled for the one pound daffodils from Tesco.

Regardless of their source, they add some light to his too new, too sparse flat.

And they will add a splash of sunshine yellow to the row of flowers being cultivated by the Leeds Horticultural Society. The pink carnations that Olive planted earlier in the month are already starting to poke their heads through the earth, their colorful petals stretching towards the warm sun, and the purple violets that Michael has been cultivating are blooming brilliantly.

As he places the daffodil bulbs into the ground, patting the earth down over them, he can’t wait for his flowers to add to the park’s beauty.

Harry has only been a member of the Leeds Horticultural Society for two months and this is his first opportunity to actually plant his own flowers. He spends every Saturday morning at Bramley Park, volunteering with other members of the society, but thus far, his work has been less exciting. As he digs another hole, he wonders idly if it was because they were testing his abilities first before trusting him with his own corner of the flower garden.

If that’s the case, then Harry knows he has proved his worth. For the past several Saturdays, he has been weeding and pruning and watering and doing whatever else needed done other than the actual planting. He helped others with their flowers, making sure they were growing strong and receiving enough sunlight despite the perpetual grey British weather.

But at Monday’s monthly meeting, Mary Beth pulled him aside and said it was finally time for him to grow his own flowers. With her instructions, Harry felt like he had been entrusted with protecting the Crown Jewels instead of a small plot of daffodils. He wanted to show his ability as a gardener. He wanted to prove to the society of talented gardeners that he could grow beautiful flowers too.

“How’s it coming, Harry?” Olive calls from her garden plot about five meters away. She wipes sweat off her brow, standing on shaky legs as she walks over to him.

Harry finishes planting his final daffodil bulb before standing up, smiling at her as he reaches for his water bottle. He takes a sip of water, the cool liquid refreshing him.

“It’s going pretty well,” Harry replies, waving his empty carton at Olive. She chuckles good naturedly. “I just got the little babies planted and now I just need to water them. Your carnations are looking lovely.”

He peers over her shoulder at the budding pink blossoms. She follows his gaze, smiling fondly at her flowers. “I’m quite pleased with how well they’re doing,” she admits.

“Will you be joining us at the pub for lunch?” Harry asks. It’s a weekly tradition that the members of the Leeds Horticultural Society go for lunch after a busy morning of gardening. Harry looks forward to the lunches each week – a time to relax, talk, and laugh with the friends he’s made in Leeds.

“Not this week,” Olive says. “My great-grandkids are taking me out to lunch today.”

“Oh that sounds lovely,” Harry coos. “You’ll have such a nice time, but we’ll miss you.”

“Next week I’ll be there for sure,” Olive winks at him and Harry chuckles. She gives him a friendly pat on the shoulder. “Finish up your gardening. I’ll go bother someone else.”

Harry laughs, assuring her she’s no bother as she shuffles off. Harry takes another sip of his water and then picks up his empty watering pail.

As he walks towards the water pump by the greenhouse, he throws out some smiles and friendly greetings to other volunteers. There’s seven of them that come to the park on Saturday mornings, always busy tending to their flowers or vegetables or just making sure nothing has been neglected and starting growing weeds. They’re all kind, lovely people who accepted Harry immediately into the society when he joined two months ago.

Harry moved to Leeds three months ago when his job abruptly transferred him. Before that, he’d been working in the marketing department of a small real estate office in Manchester. It wasn’t his dream job, but he was only twenty-three and a year out of uni, so knew he needed to take his share of shitty jobs to gain experience.

When he graduated from the University of Manchester with his double degree in Biology and Public Relations, it had taken him over a year to find a full time job. In the meantime, he moved back home with his parents and worked part time at the Costa in Manchester Piccadilly, commuting to and from the city every day. He spent the rest of his free time applying for jobs, going to what felt like hundreds of interviews only to be rejected or to simply never hear back from the employer.

His only relief was when he would volunteer with the Manchester Horticultural Society. Harry became a member his first year of uni; he and his friends from the Department of Biology always loved to volunteer at the society’s local greenhouse. After graduating with no job prospects, growing flowers and vegetables in a controlled environment was the only sense of power Harry felt like he had over his life. It was aggravating, but also comforting.

He felt stuck – frustrated by the inescapable reality that was post-uni unemployment. He was so tired of being turned down for jobs by his lack of experience. How was he supposed to gain any experience if no one would give him a job?

The job at the real estate office was just him casting his net. He applied blindly, the office one on his list of dozens of other jobs to send in applications for. He had no expectations, but when they called him back, he held onto a sliver of hope.

When he got the job, he had been over the moon. He threw a huge party, inviting all his childhood and uni friends and even a couple of strangers off the street. He moved out of his parents’ house and into a small flat in Manchester that was only a fifteen minute walk to his office.

His life was finally going somewhere.

But then six months into the job, his boss told him his position was redundant. He could either take the redundancy or be transferred to their slightly larger office in Leeds.

The prospect of being unemployed once again was too much for Harry. He accepted the transfer.

Moving to Leeds after just moving to Manchester was an absolute nightmare. He broke his lease early and found an even smaller, even shittier flat in Leeds. He said goodbye to his family and friends, and even though he was only moving an hour away, he felt like he might as well be going to Scotland. Everyone he knew was staying in Manchester, and he didn’t know a soul in Leeds.

Thankfully, Elizabeth, the president of the Manchester Horticultural Society, told him about her friend Mary Beth, the president of the LHS. She gave him Mary Beth’s contact information and told him to check out the Leeds Horticultural Society when he was settled. Harry had just nodded sadly. On top of everything else, Harry didn’t want to leave the MHS. He’d been a member for almost five years now and leaving behind all his plants and flowers felt like the greatest unfairness of all.

His move to Leeds was chaotic – starting a new job while trying to move in and learn his way around the city made it impossible for him to have any free time. He’d been in Leeds a month before he realized he hadn’t spoken to a single person outside of a work or shopping context since he arrived.

That’s when he called Mary Beth and she invited him to the society’s next meeting. Harry had felt unexpectedly nervous when he drove up to the old church hall on the other side of town. When he went to his first MHS meeting five years ago, he’d gone with a group of his friends, comfortable and confident in numbers. But this time he was by himself without a soul to depend on.

All his nerves were for naught as soon as he stepped inside the hall. The members of the LHS all seemed to be senior citizens – retirees wanting to pass the day in some useful way. As soon as the multiple eighty-somethings caught eye of the singular twenty-something, they descended on him like he was the most interesting thing to happen since the birth of disco.

By the end of the first meeting, the elderly volunteers had adopted Harry into their group. All of them wanted to take him to lunch or set him up with their pretty granddaughters. Harry had laughed off the latter offers, teasing them that he would rather be set up with their pretty grandsons, but agreed to get to know the other volunteers over lunch and through their gardening at Bramley Park.

Two months later, Harry is thankful he decided to attend the LHS meeting. He fills his Saturday mornings by gardening with some of the funniest and kindest people he’s ever met. When he weeds, Joe tells him stories about when he was fighting in France during the Second World War and how he was there when Paris was liberated. Susan always asks him how he’s settling in when they work in the greenhouse together. She’s lived in Leeds her entire life and always tells him to ask her if he ever has any questions about anything. She tells him stories about growing up in the city and how no matter where she travels, Leeds is always her favorite place. Olive is in her early nineties and loves to tell stories about her great-grandchildren. She has so many that Harry can barely remember which one is which, but her stories about their mischief – and how Olive always seems to be in the thick of it – always make him laugh.

Harry loves the volunteers and genuinely enjoys his time with them. They may be the only friends he’s made since moving three months ago, but they’re good people. The fact that some of them are over fifty years older than him doesn’t matter.

 When Harry reaches the greenhouse, he washes his hands under the icy water before filling up his water pail. Glancing around the garden, he can see the other volunteers finishing up their work, and a quick check of his watch tells him it’s just coming up to noon. His stomach grumbles, and Harry can’t help but look forward to lunch at the nearby pub, The Rose and Crown.

Harry walks back towards his garden plot, whistling mindlessly as he carries the water pail. He turns the corner, about to lift his pail to start watering his plants, when he freezes.

There is a tiny person, no more than three years old, lying in his garden plot with her hands over her face, a crown of flowers in her red curls and another looped around her arm.

“Hello,” Harry says carefully, lowering his water pail to the ground and squatting down next to the young girl. He twists around, trying to get a look at her face. He can’t tell if she’s crying or not from where her hands are covering her eyes. “Are you alright?”

Her eyes blink open, fingers spreading to peer around them. When she sees Harry, her eyes go wide, bright with excitement.

“Sh,” she hisses. “Hiding!”

“What?” Harry asks dumbly, confused.

From behind her hands, the girl rolls her eyes. Her right hand falls from her face, grabbing Harry’s hand and tugging him down. “Hide and seek!” she explains. “Don’t want to be caught!”

“Oh!” Harry exclaims, understanding dawning. He glances around the garden and sees a blonde headed boy wandering through the rows of flowers, peering through the stems looking for the girl. It seems like Harry’s plot is the perfect place for hiding – it’s right between two rhododendron bushes, concealing the plot behind its many leaves and flowers.

“Hide, silly!” the girl exclaims breathlessly, tugging on Harry’s hand again until he wobbles where he’s crouched down. Instead of falling forward and hurting the girl, he falls backwards onto his bum with a heavy “oof.”

The girl giggles, flower crown askew on her head.

Another quick glance shows that the blonde boy is rapidly approaching, although he seems oblivious that Harry is chatting with the person he’s looking for.

Without another thought, Harry lies down on the plot next to the little girl. She giggles slightly louder and Harry catches her movement out of the corner of his eye. Without giving herself away, the girl sits up quickly, plopping the spare flower crown on top of his head.

“You have to wear one to play,” she explains seriously before flopping back down on her back.

Harry nods, reaching up to fix the crown without crushing the flowers. He turns his head to the side and watches as her hands come up to cover her face again. Harry chuckles to himself as he places his hands over his face as well.

He lies there for a moment, cool dirt seeping through his clothes and making his skin feel damp. He always wears his old, ratty t-shirts when he gardens, and he’s thankful for that when he thinks about the stains his clothes are undoubtedly obtaining. But regardless of the dirt, Harry can’t help but feel a strange sense of excitement as he plays along. Even if he’s not the one the blonde boy is looking for, Harry hasn’t played hide and seek in years. He forgot how fun it could be as he tries to lie still and not draw any unnecessary attention to himself.

He waits for the moment when they’re inevitably caught – the boy wasn’t that far away from them – but the moment doesn’t come.

Instead, a sweet, high pitched, very close sounding voice calls, “Ernie, did you look over by the greenhouse?”

Harry doesn’t hear the response, but, after a moment, he does hear the voice hovering right over him. “Well, well, well, I found you, Doris. But looks like you found someone too.”

A delighted squeal comes from the girl next to him, and Harry fans his fingers to blink up at the voice. The sun hovers right above him, dull light momentarily blinding him, but as he sits up, blinking a few times to allow his eyes to focus, he wonders if he’s hallucinating.

Standing above him, bouncing the red headed girl on his hip, is the most beautiful man Harry has ever seen. The sun has created a halo around his small frame, making him absolutely radiate as he stares down at Harry in confused amusement.

“Um,” Harry stammers, scrambling to stand up and not look like a complete idiot. But then he really gets a good look at the man and he suddenly can’t remember how to speak, how to form a coherent sentence. It’s just – this man is _stunning_. He stands a bit shorter than Harry, but he holds himself with such undeniable authority that he seems so much bigger than him. His chestnut hair is gracefully windswept across his forehead, creating a perfect, soft fringe. His blue eyes shine brightly at Harry and remind him of his childhood holidays spent on the Mediterranean, crystal blue with the sun sparkling against the water.

He wears a light blue sweatshirt, the baggy material somehow still managing to compliment his curvy figure. His jeans cling tightly to his thighs, accentuating their thickness. Harry’s mouth waters at the sight, his face flaming.

“Hide and seek!” the girl – Doris – exclaims, hiding her face into the man’s neck. “We were playing hide and seek!”

“I could see that,” the man chuckles, pink lips twisting into an amused smirk.

“I –” Harry struggles to remember how to form sentences. “I was getting some water to water my flowers and came back to find her hiding,” Harry attempts to explain. “She asked me to hide with her so I wouldn’t give her away.”

“Ah,” the man nods in understanding. He bounces Doris on his hip, digging his fingers into her side so that she squeals with delight as he tickles her. “Doris here will do anything to make sure she doesn’t lose hide and seek to her brother. Even if it means convincing people she doesn’t know to play along.”

Harry smiles as Doris wiggles out of the man’s arms, racing off in the direction of the blonde boy.

“I’m Louis, by the way,” the man says, holding out his hand.

“Harry,” he replies, taking Louis’ hand in his and trying not to notice how small and warm it is in his. “I hope you didn’t mind me joining in. She seemed very determined to win and I didn’t want to ruin her chances,” Harry rushes to explain as he releases Louis’ hand. No matter how fit the man is, Harry realizes that he’s a stranger hiding with who is presumably this man’s kid. He doesn’t want to come across as creepy.

“Nah, don’t worry about it,” Louis laughs, flicking his fringe out of his eyes and then delicately fixing it with his fingertips, seemingly unaware that the simple act makes Harry’s heart catch in his throat. “She loves befriending everyone, so it’s not unusual.” A brief frown settles on his lips though as he glances at Harry’s plot. “I hope she didn’t ruin your gardening though. She can be a bit destructive without realizing it.”

“No,” Harry brushes off Louis’ concern. “I only just planted the bulbs today. Unless she – I don’t know – dug them out and chucked them into the pond, I doubt she did any harm. They should be safe underground.”

Louis nods thoughtfully. “Good, I’m glad. She loves flowers, but doesn’t seem to realize that it’s not okay to pick other people’s. Whenever we come to Bramley, she’s always going for all the roses and tulips.” He gestures towards the flowers blossoming around them, and Harry tries to slow his heart at the implication that Louis comes here frequently. “It’s a miracle she doesn’t wreck everyone’s garden with her enthusiasm.”

“No, I think that’s sweet,” Harry says, looking over by the greenhouse where Doris has caught her brother and is wrestling him into a pile of dirt. “Flowers are supposed to be enjoyed and bring people pleasure. I’m glad she likes them.” He pauses, looking back at Louis. “Did you make her flower crown?”

Louis huffs a laugh, running his hand through his hair again. “Yeah, I did. Ernest has one too,” he gestures towards where the two are playing, and Harry can see a ring of flowers hanging around the boy’s neck. When he looks back at Harry, his eyes sparkle. “Even made yours too, although it was originally mine.”

Harry makes an embarrassing noise, hand flying up to his hair where the flower crown is perched. He’d completely forgotten about it, too overwhelmed by the Greek god standing in front of him, and his cheeks flame in embarrassment.

“Do you want it back?” Harry asks, making to remove it from his head. “I’m sorry – she just put it on my head –”

“No, that’s alright,” Louis cuts off his rambling with a gentle smile. “Looks better on you anyways.”

Harry’s face really has turned red now, heart stuttering in his chest at the unexpected compliment. He struggles to find words, anything to woo him right back.

“I doubt that,” he mumbles, tugging on his fingers nervously.

Louis laughs, eyes crinkling at the corners.

“I lost it during one of the rounds of hide and seek,” he explains. “She was able to get it off me that way.”

“Oh no,” Harry laughs. “How did you lose it?”

“I was hiding behind some bushes,” Louis admits, chuckling softly. “Not my best plan but I thought it would be a good spot. Well, that was until the twins decided to gang up on me and I lost it in the scurry to get away.” He reaches to the sleeve of the hoodie he’s wearing, rolling it up slightly to reveal an array of scratches marring the skin. But Harry can barely focus on that. His brain short circuits, only taking in the sight of tattoos and tanned skin, golden and inviting. “Got caught by some of the branches instead of them. Don’t know which one is worse.”

“Ooh, those look nasty,” Harry observes, fingers itching to reach out and take hold of Louis’ wrist, to turn his arm to get a better look. “Do you want to put some antiseptic on them? You don’t want them to get infected.”

Louis laughs lightly, rolling his sleeve back down. “Don’t worry about it. You get used to a couple of scratches when you’re playing with kids all day long.”

Harry nods, remembering his childhood and running around the forest with Gemma, uncaring of scabbed knees and scratches from thorns.

“They seem like fun kids,” Harry remarks. “You must be proud.”

“Yeah, I –” Louis pauses, giving Harry a funny look, eyebrows raised. “I should probably clarify that they’re not _my_ kids.”

“Oh,” Harry lets out an awkward laugh, eyebrows pinching. “They’re not?”

“No,” Louis replies. “They’re my siblings. We just have a really big age difference.”

“I can see that,” Harry notes and Louis laughs. “But that’s – that’s cool.”

“Yeah?” Louis asks, looking at Harry shyly through his eyelashes.

Harry nods, words stuck in his throat.  

“Harry, do you –”

Whatever Louis was about to ask was suddenly cut off by a loud squeal, flashes of red and blonde hair appearing out of nowhere and slamming into Louis’ legs.

“Ah!” Louis cries playfully, the twins laughing excitedly as he squats down to their height. “What are you two monsters doing?”

“It’s your turn to hide, Lou,” Ernest explains through a giggle. “I’ll count to ten.”

“Ten?” Louis exclaims. “How could I hide anywhere in ten seconds?”

“You’ll have to run really fast!” Doris declares, and then proves her point by running circles around Louis’ legs until he reaches out and snatches her.

“Point taken,” Louis says, looking up at Harry and smirking. “Doris, did you introduce yourself to your new hide and seek friend?”

Doris turns her face from where it’s been buried in Louis’ shoulder. Her shyness is only fleeting, declaring, “I’m Doris. You look like a Disney prince.” She gives him a quizzical look. “Are you Prince Eric?”

Harry laughs, also squatting down to her height. “How did you know that he’s my favorite Disney prince?” Harry asks excitedly, making Doris grin from ear to ear.

“I’m Ariel,” Doris declares, shaking out her red curls. “She’s my favorite.”

“That makes you my princess!” Harry exclaims. From his crouched position, he attempts a bow, only wobbling slightly. “My lady.”

Doris giggles excitedly, Louis’ rough, quiet laughter mixing with hers.

“Ariel and I both have red hair, although Mummy says mine is prettier because it’s curly.”

“My hair used to be about as curly as yours,” Harry says, tugging playfully at one of Doris’ loose tendrils. “About as long too. I definitely think curls are the prettiest.”

“Why did you cut your hair?” Louis asks curiously.

“Um,” Harry rubs a hand over the back of his neck, still not completely used to the feeling of the exposed skin. His hair has only started to grow back since he cut it, small curls appearing around his ears and at the base of his neck. “It was just getting really long. It was time for a change.” He grins back at Doris. “And with short hair, it means I look more like Prince Eric!”

Doris laughs delightedly.

“Well, I’m Prince Philip,” Ernest pipes up, not wanting to be left out. “He fights a _dragon_.”

“He does,” Harry agrees. “Do you fight many dragons?”

“Yes!” Ernest exclaims. “I fight them every day!” He slashes his arm through the air, pretending to hold a sword. He turns to Louis, thrusting his tiny fist into Louis’ chest.

“Oh, you got me!” Louis cries dramatically, clutching at his heart and collapsing in the grass. The twins laugh uproariously, jumping onto Louis and tickling him.

Harry giggles along with them, undeniably charmed.

“Who does that make your brother then?” Harry asks when Louis sits back up, the twins curled into his side.

Doris twists in his arms, studying his face. “Prince Charming!” she declares.

“No, I want to be Sleeping Beauty,” Louis protests. “Then I can sleep all I want and won’t wake up until a dreamy man comes along and kisses me.”

His eyes flash in Harry’s direction, mirth sparkling, and Harry’s heart stutters.

“But I’m Prince Philip,” Ernest says, face pinching, “that means I have to kiss you.”

Louis scoffs, pretending to be offended. “And what’s wrong with giving your big brother a kiss?” He proves his point by bending down to press a sloppy kiss to Ernest’s cheek, causing the young boy to shriek.

“It has to be true love’s kiss,” Doris states matter-of-factly, as if her brother is clueless for suggesting otherwise.

“Silly me,” Louis decides, giving Doris’ cheek a kiss for good measure.

She giggles, and then tugs on Louis’ hand. “Come on, let’s go hide.”

Ernest cheers his agreement, but Louis shakes his head. “Sorry, little loves, but you know we need to meet Nan for lunch. Don’t want to leave her waiting.”

Clearly forgetting their hide and seek plans, they cheer at the mention of their nan. Louis helps them stand up, and Harry pushes himself onto his feet as well.

“Say bye to Harry,” Louis tells the twins, taking their hands in his.

“Bye Harry!” they yell simultaneously.

“Will you play hide and seek with us next time?” Doris asks, eyes hopeful.

Harry smiles, shuffling his feet. He is unsure when next time is, but he is definitely not opposed to seeing the handsome man and his adorable siblings again.

“I would love to,” Harry tells them earnestly. “As long as your brother doesn’t mind?”

Doris and Ernest turn towards their brother, eyes wide and pleading. “Please Lou,” they whine. “Please, please, please!”

“Hm, I don’t know,” Louis deliberates, looking from the twins to Harry.

Unable to help it, Harry sticks out his bottom lip in what he hopes is a very convincing pout.

Louis keeps a straight face for only a moment longer before he breaks into laughter. “Yes, of course!”

The twins cheer, smiling brightly at Harry.

“Maybe I’ll see you around?” Louis asks in a quiet voice, ignoring the twins as they tug on his hands.

“Yeah,” Harry says, tucking a phantom strand of his hair behind his ear. “I’d really like that.”

“Me too,” Louis replies, smiling softly at Harry.

They smile at each other for a moment, a bubble around them, until the twins abruptly pull them back to reality with their protests.

“Alright, I’m coming,” Louis exclaims, faking exasperation. He rolls his eyes playfully at Harry who can’t help but cover his mouth in a giggle. “See you around, Harry.”

“See you,” Harry replies, butterflies in his stomach from how much he hopes those words will be true.

He watches as the twins tug Louis away, around the side of the greenhouse and out of sight.

Harry stands frozen for a moment longer, hoping that maybe he’ll reappear around the corner. When Louis and the twins don’t return, Harry manages to tear his gaze away from the greenhouse and back to his plot, now covered in footprints.

Harry picks up the water pail and feels the irrational urge to overturn it above his head. Anything to calm the fire suddenly thrumming through his veins, the erratic stuttering of his heart.

He fights down the urge, tipping the water pail over the freshly plotted soil instead. As he carefully waters his flowers, he can’t help the prayer on his lips that he’ll be playing hide and seek with the most beautiful man he’s ever seen sometime again very, very soon.

 

Harry finishes up his work at the park, placing the flower crown in his car for safekeeping, before walking to the pub with the other volunteers.

Since it’s a warm, sunny day, everyone decides to sit outside, packing into a picnic bench with pint glasses in hand. Harry ends up sandwiched between Michael and Rebecca, a pair of twins who have been a part of the LHS for twenty years.

Harry enjoys the small talk around him, listening to stories from everyone’s week and how their gardening is coming. Rebecca laments how one of her flower beds has already become infested with aphids, so she’s been weeding out the infected plants.

“How is your planting coming, Harry?” Michael asks after everyone’s food has been brought to the table. Harry glances up around a mouthful of chips, Michael’s friendly brown eyes curious.

“It’s good,” Harry replies, swallowing down his chips and chasing it with a sip from his pint. “Started on my daffodils this morning, and I didn’t have any trouble planting them. Daffodils are always pretty easy to grow, so I’m excited to see them coming up.”

His fellow gardeners nod, throwing in comments about how lovely the daffodils will look amongst all the other flowers.

“I’m surprised you were able to manage any gardening today,” Susan throws in cheekily, “what with Olive’s grandson hanging around. He’s a very handsome lad, and the two of you seemed quite taken with each other.”

Harry nearly chokes on his drink. “That was Olive’s _grandson_?” he asks incredulously.

“Well, great-grandson, I think,” Susan amends, fingers running through her grey, curly hair. “He meets up with her every now and again to take her to lunch. Haven’t you seen him around before?”

“No,” Harry replies, running a hand through his fringe. “I would have remembered.”

The other volunteers laugh, Susan exclaiming, “Ooh, you two would be lovely together!”

Harry blushes as everyone offers their agreement. Sure, Harry had found himself attracted to Louis, despite their brief conversation, but he wonders how on earth the volunteers manage to pair the two of them together. He hadn’t even noticed anyone watching them. And besides, he and Louis had barely chatted – sparks hadn’t necessarily been flying.

“We barely spoke,” Harry defends himself, cheeks still pink. “He was very friendly, but that doesn’t mean we’re a match made in heaven.”

Rebecca rolls her eyes, giving Harry a playful pinch. “Don’t give me that, Harry. I’m eighty-seven years old and even I can see that he is hot stuff.”

Harry honks a laugh, unable to help it, hand flying to cover his mouth.

“And you’re not so hard on the eyes either,” she continues, unashamed. “You don’t think I hear what the young girls walking around the park say about you? They’re all absolutely smitten. And Olive’s boy – he seemed just as smitten.”

A surge of excitement mixed with hope wells up in Harry’s chest, unasked for but not unwelcome.

“Is he the one who does the charity football matches?” Susan pipes up. “I’ve heard Olive talk about him. He seems quite the catch.”

“Yes, he is,” Joe confirms, square glasses sliding down his nose. “Olive was telling me just last week that he’s signed up for another one.” He leans towards Harry, adding conspiratorially, “From what I’ve heard, he has an absolute heart of gold. Loves kids and is always doing the football matches to help support some children’s charity or another.”

Harry’s throat bobs, unable to deny that one of his greatest weaknesses is hot men with babies. He thinks back to how close Louis had seemed with Doris and Ernest. How evident it was that they absolutely worshipped him.

“He does community theatre as well,” Rebecca adds. “Olive invited us all to see him in – what was the last show he did –?”

“Ooh, it was _Mamma Mia_!” Jane exclaims. “I went with Olive and he was so talented! Such a beautiful singing voice. He played the fiancé, I remember now. My granddaughter Chelsea didn’t talk about anything for weeks after!” She gives a reflective pause. “Even I could appreciate his shirtless scenes. I never knew what Chelsea meant by ‘washboard abs’ until I saw his!”

“Jane,” Susan laughs, Harry also unable to help his giggles. “You’re shameless.”

Jane shrugs, sipping her pint. “Just because I’m in my seventies doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate the aesthetics of a shirtless young man.”

Harry snorts with laughter, remembering how tanned and tone Louis’ arms were. He wonders if Jane is right, if the rest of him is as firm and golden…

“He comes by every once in a while,” Rebecca says, nudging Harry. “Next time he comes to the park, you should ask that boy on a date.”

Everyone’s eyes fall on Harry, intrigued yet hopeful.

“I don’t know about that,” Harry says with a shrug. Everyone’s expression falls, and Harry doesn’t want to see them so discouraged. He knows they’re just teasing him, that no one actually expects him to ask Louis on a date. So in an effort to placate everyone, he says, “Maybe. We’ll see what happens.”

That seems to satisfy the elderly volunteers, returning to different topics of conversation and their greasy pub food.

Harry only half listens as he finishes up his burger. Since moving to Leeds, dating has been low on his priority list. He’s been trying to settle in, adjust to his new job and his new city. Living alone makes it difficult for him to meet people, and outside of a few work colleagues, the LHS are the only people he’s really connected with.

As appealing as dating someone as attractive and – according to the other volunteers – perfect as Louis is, he wants a solid friend group before he delves into a relationship. Because that’s what dating would be for him – searching for a serious relationship, for someone to invest in.

Harry’s just not sure if he’s ready to invest in someone in Leeds when he still feels like he belongs in Manchester.

 

As Harry drives to Bramley Park the following Saturday morning, he can’t help the flame of hope in his chest that he’ll see Louis again.

It had been a difficult week at work. With several of his colleagues, Harry had been working on a new marketing campaign for the office. He’d been really excited for it and had put a lot of effort into the designs and his marketing strategy. When his team had pitched it, their boss had turned up her nose, saying she didn’t like it and wanted them to try again.

Harry felt absolutely defeated. He was working even longer hours in an attempt to come up with a new campaign, and each night, he came home to his empty flat and collapsed into bed, once without even taking off his shoes. He was drained, and the sight of a blue eyed demigod could definitely salvage the week.

But all thoughts of his arduous work week are forgotten the moment he arrives at the greenhouse, flowers and plants and earth calling his name. The rich smell of the soil and the sweet flowers instantly calms him, familiar and grounding. The other volunteers greet him happily, patting him on the back fondly as he sets about his work.

The daffodils haven’t started blooming yet – it’s only been a week – but Harry sets about watering the plot, making sure the earth is damp and in good condition. He hums to himself idly as he works, checking the soil for any weeds starting to appear.

Once he’s finished with the work on his plot, he moves to the communal plots. His mind drifts as he weeds, removing the infectious plants from the healthy ones. Some of the other volunteers come up to chat with him, drifting in and out of easy conversation as he works.

With the earth under his hands and the promise of growth from his diligence, Harry feels more content than he has all week.

Then he hears a familiar high pitched squeal, and his head whips up from where he’s been watering the rose bushes.

A smile breaks across his face when he sees Doris and Ernest laughing happily by the duck pond, crouching down and throwing bits of bread to the animals.

Standing next to them with his hands on his hips, a smile on his face, and aviators perched atop his nose, is Louis.

Harry is placing the water pail on the ground and making his way to the duck pond before he even realizes it.

“Well, if it isn’t my hide and seek pals!” Harry calls when he walks closer. The twins spin around at the sound of his voice, cheering excitedly when they see him. But Louis – Louis’ reaction rivals both of theirs. His face absolutely lights up, smile growing impossibly wider.

“Hey mate, how’s it going?” Louis greets, reaching up to place his sunglasses on top of his head.

“Good, good, how are you?” Harry replies, placing his hands in his pockets and rocking back on his heels.

“Good, yeah,” Louis echoes. “Thought I’d bring the kiddos to feed the ducks today.” He squats down to their height. “Want to help?”

Harry nods, unable to stop himself from admiring Louis’ appearance. His soft brown hair is artfully windswept, pushed back messily by the sunglasses now resting on his head. He’s wearing a tank top, sleeves cut off, leaving gaping holes in the armpits and placing his tanned arms on display. Harry runs his eyes greedily over every tattoo, fingers itching to reach out and touch.

Louis tears a piece of bread in half, handing one to Harry. With bated breath, Harry watches as Louis reaches back, throwing the bread with a gentle grunt, the ducks racing to catch the piece. The movement pulls Louis’ shirt back, exposing a soft dusting of armpit hair and even a brief glimpse of a pink, pebbled nipple.

Harry forces him to tear his gaze away, ripping off a small chunk of bread and tossing it towards some ducks.

Ernest throws a piece of bread at the same time, arm flailing but bread not traveling very far.

“Nice one, Ernie,” Louis praises, handing him some more bread.

“Look how far I can throw!” Doris exclaims, demanding her older brother’s attention.

Louis turns towards her, eyes wide with interest. “Let’s see, little love.”

Doris gives a satisfied grin before rearing her arm back and throwing with all her might. It hits one of the ducks right between the eyes, bouncing off lightly and landing in the water where it is immediately snatched up by eager bills.

Louis throws back his head and lets out a clear, ringing laugh. “Bullseye!”

Harry laughs along with him while Doris grins smugly.

“Alright, Harry. Your turn,” Louis says.

Harry’s eyes dart hesitantly towards Louis, but he’s smiling playfully.

“Alright,” he says, making a show of stretching his arm behind his back, loosening his muscles exaggeratedly. The twins laugh at his antics. “But I have to warn you, I played American football at sixth form and I can throw really well.”

Louis makes a face. “American football?” He reaches towards the twins, pretending to snatch them away. “I won’t have you contaminating their minds with talk of such fake sports!”

Harry laughs, rolling his eyes. He winds his arm up one more time, pretending to reach back with all his might before letting his arm droop, throwing the bread so pitifully that it barely makes it to the edge of the water.

The twins laugh, Ernest exclaiming, “Even I threw farther than that!”

Eager to prove how far they can throw, they reach for more bread, wrapped up in plastic by Louis’ legs.

“Absolutely disgraceful,” Louis laughs, shaking his head. “That’s what you get for trying to do things the American way.”

Harry laughs along with him, tearing off another chunk of bread and throwing it lightly into the water. “I must have forgotten that I was rubbish in sixth form. Spent all my time on the bench. Don’t know if I ever played a game.”

“Oh no,” Louis chuckles. “I thought they let everyone play?”

“I must have been the exception,” Harry responds, making Louis laugh again, high pitched and clear as a bell. He smiles to himself, undeniably pleased. “What was your sport then? Did you start every game?”

“Football,” Louis states easily, throwing his last chunk of bread and then placing his elbows in the grass and leaning back. Harry tries not to stare at the bulge of his biceps. “ _Real_ football. I don’t know if I started _every_ game, but I did alright for myself.”

“Oh yeah,” Harry nods, remembering his conversation at the pub last week. “You do the charity football matches, don’t you?”

The words are out before Harry realizes how creepy that sounds – to know something like that about a total stranger. Harry cringes, a blush rising to his cheeks, but Louis doesn’t seem off put. In fact, he’s grinning.

“Yeah, I do them on occasion,” Louis admits. “Me nan gossiping about me, then?”

“No, Susan told me,” Harry corrects. He mentally slaps himself – admitting that Susan told him sounds like he has been asking about Louis. Which he hasn’t. But if he’d agreed that Olive had told him…well, that just sounds a lot less creepy.

“Ah, Susan told you?” Louis echoes thoughtfully. “A right gossip she is.” His tone isn’t one of annoyance, but affection. He smirks. “What else did she tell you?”

“Um,” Harry struggles to find words. “They were talking about you doing theatre. Like _Mamma Mia!_ …”

“Ah, yes I remember Nan brought some of them to the show!” Louis agrees warmly. “They were so sweet to come.”

Harry nods. “They said they really enjoyed it.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” Louis replies. He gives Harry an expectant look, eyebrows raised. “Did they say anything else?”

 _Only that they think we should date_. Wisely, Harry chooses not to say that. “Um, no. I think that was it.”

Louis nods, plucking a piece of grass from the ground and twirling it around his finger. “Good to know.” He pauses. “Now I think it’s only fair that I tell you what my nan told me about you.”

“She was talking about me?” Harry blushes.

“Yep,” Louis agrees. “She’s been going on for weeks about the new young man in the gardening society. I’m pretty sure you are the most exciting thing that’s happened to the LHS in one hundred years.” Harry doubts the LHS has been around that long, but he doesn’t correct him, too pleased at the compliment. “It was only after I met you last week that I put two and two together.”

“What did she say about me, then?” Harry asks, slightly nervous to hear the answer.

Louis pauses, letting the piece of grass fall to the ground. He pushes himself off his elbows, planting his palms in the grass and leaning back. “Let’s see. She told me your name was Harry and you moved here from Manchester. You’ve only been here a couple of months, but you love gardening and that everyone in the society wishes you were their own grandson.”

“That’s nice of her to say that,” Harry replies, smiling at the thought. Everyone in the LHS really is too kind to him.

“From what I can tell it’s true,” Louis says, gesturing towards the gardens where all the other volunteers are working. “They’d probably let you get away with murder.”

Harry snorts, a very unflattering sound that he immediately regrets. Louis chuckles, not seeming to mind.

“I don’t think they’d ever go that far, but they’re all such lovely people and I’ve enjoyed getting to know them.”

“That’s nice of you to say,” Louis replies, tone earnest. He pauses for a moment. “Well, I’ve told you everything Nan told me, but I think it’s a crime that that’s all I know.”

Harry’s heart catches in his throat, eyes flying to Louis’ face to see if he’s joking. But instead, he’s smiling hopefully at Harry.

Harry opens his mouth to respond, only to be interrupted by the twins.

“Louis, can we play hide and seek again?” Doris asks, tugging on his arm.

Louis chuckles lightly, frustration momentarily flashing across his face at the untimely interruption. He tears his eyes away from Harry, and Harry looks away as well. The twins have thrown the last piece of bread, and the ducks are starting to scatter, uninterested when they aren’t being provided with food.

“How about we go to the playground?” Louis suggests. “It’s almost lunchtime so I don’t think we’d have time for more than one round.”

“Okay!” they exclaim, jumping to their feet and racing to the nearby play structure.

Louis laughs quietly under his breath. “I should probably follow them. Last time we went to the playground, Ernest decided to go down all the slides head first.”

Harry chuckles, standing up as Louis does so. They stand awkwardly for a moment. Harry is unsure of what to say, but he just doesn’t want Louis to go.

“Join us for lunch,” he blurts. Louis quirks a brow, but Harry barrels on. “We always go to the pub after volunteering .The Rose and Crown. It’s right at the edge of the park. Olive usually joins us, so I’m sure no one would mind.”

“I’d love to,” Louis cuts off Harry’s rambling. “That’d be nice.”

“Yeah?” Harry asks.

Louis nods. “Yeah.”

Harry smiles. “Um – and I can tell you whatever you want to know. About me.”

“Sounds good,” Louis agrees, also grinning. “When do you head over?”

“Around noon,” Harry replies, checking his watch to see that it’s fifteen ‘til. “I just have to finish up my watering and put away the tools and we’ll be good to go.”

“Perfect,” Louis says. “I’ll let the twins run around for a bit and then I’ll meet you there? We were going to take Nan out somewhere for lunch anyways, so I’m sure she wouldn’t mind.”

“Great.” Harry can’t stop smiling. “I’ll just go finish up and I’ll see you at the pub?”

“Sounds good,” Louis replies, beginning to walk towards the playground. “See you soon.”

Harry finishes his gardening in a blur. He waters the rose bushes until they’re glistening and then takes his tools back to the shed.

Jane is in the shed as well, removing her gardening gloves. When she sees Harry, she fixes him with a knowing look.

“And you said last week there was nothing between you and Louis,” she chides.

“What?” Harry asks incredulously. “We were just talking!”

“Oh, don’t give me that,” Jane laughs, playfully slapping his arm. “You two looked absolutely besotted. Are you going to ask that boy on a date or do I need to ask him for you?”

“No, you don’t need to do that,” Harry laughs, placing his tools on the shelf. “I don’t know why you’d bother when he’s joining us at the pub.”

“Ooooh,” she sing-songs. “Would you like us to leave you alone at the pub?” Jane teases. “Let you two get a private booth?”

“No, I think we’ll be perfectly fine without all that,” Harry replies faux-haughtily, making Jane laugh.

“Well, I’m glad to know you don’t need our help after all.” She pats his arm before waltzing out of the shed, an entirely too smug look on her face.

When Harry arrives at the pub ten minutes later, the volunteers have already claimed a picnic table outside. It seems most of them have already ordered, pint glasses in hand as they talk. Harry waves at them, setting his bag down before heading into the pub to use the loo and order.

He uses the loo quickly, washing his hands but not bothering to dry them before heading to the bar to order.

A smile splits across his face when he sees Louis leaning across the bar, chatting to the bartender.

“Hey,” Harry greets, stepping up beside Louis despite the crowd. “You made it!”

Louis turns towards him, eyes crinkling, a small laugh escaping his lips. “Were you worried I would have changed my mind in the twenty minutes since you invited me?”

“No,” Harry denies, settling in by the bar as a burly man collects his drink and leaves. “I’m just glad you made it.”

Louis’ smile softens, hands tugging at the hem of his shirt. “Me too.”

“Here’s your drink,” the bartender calls, reaching across the bar top to hand Louis his drink.

“Cheers,” Louis replies, taking the beer and giving a small sip.

“Are you ready to order?” the bartender asks Harry.

He orders a cider and a halloumi and tomato sandwich, the bartender nodding before taking a glass and beginning to fill it.

“Ooh, that sandwich sounds really good,” Louis says, licking his lips as he takes another sip of his beer. “Was considering ordering it myself.”

“What did you get?” Harry asks as the bartender hands him his drink. He takes a sip of the cool cider, enjoying the bitter apple flavor.

“A burger,” Louis replies as they leave the bar, weaving through the small crowd as they head outside. For a fleeting moment, Harry thinks he feels Louis’ hand pressing up against the small of his back, guiding him through the crowd, but the touch is gone as quick as it came. With the press of the crowd, it could have been anything. And the idea of Louis’ small, delicate hand resting on Harry’s lower back is a bit too distracting, so he does his best to derail the thought before it gets too far. He focuses in on Louis saying, “You can never go wrong with a burger.”

“Yeah,” Harry agrees dumbly, stepping outside into the sunshine. Louis pulls down his sunglasses from the top of his head at the bright glare, and Harry’s throat goes a little dry. He takes a quick sip of his cider, overwhelmed by how much Louis looks like a supermodel.

As they approach the table, the volunteers greet them noisily, scooting closer on the already crammed picnic bench to make room for them. As fate would have it, the only available spots are right across from each other, and Harry breathes a small sigh of relief. He thinks he might have cried if he’d invited Louis to lunch and then they weren’t able to sit with each other.

Louis plops down in a seat by Olive, the twins sandwiched in between them. He gives Ernest a kiss on the head which makes the young boy grin delightedly.

Harry sits down next to Jane, bum halfway hanging off the picnic bench because of how many people are crammed onto it.

“Have you decided you’re finally joining LHS?” Joe asks Louis from across the table. “Did Olive convince you?”

“Nah,” Louis replies with a smirk. “You know better than I do, Joe, that my thumb is about as green as City is good at football. What was their record last season again?”

Everyone laughs as Joe dismisses Louis with a swipe of his hand through the air. “Bah, I thought I told you, son, that only LHS members are allowed at our pub lunches? Take your United loving arse somewhere else.”

Louis chuckles brightly around a sip of his beer and Harry smiles fondly. It’s clearly a frequently visited argument between the two men, everyone laughing good naturedly as Louis and Joe smile playfully at one another.

“What about Doris and Ernest then?” Louis asks, gesturing to the twins who are munching obliviously on apple slices. “They’re not a part of the LHS. Do they have to leave too?”

Joe pretends to deliberate, scratching his chin and the other volunteers chide him. “Of course they don’t,” Joe decides magnanimously. “But only because they’re young. They still have time to be converted.”

Everyone laughs, conversation shifting to the last time the society took a trip to see Leeds United play.

With the attention off of him, Louis leans forward towards Harry, gesturing for him to do the same. Harry can’t help the goofy grin on his face as he leans forward.

“Don’t tell him,” Louis whispers conspiratorially, “but I took the twins to their first Manchester United match last month and they absolutely loved it. Ernest insisted on wearing red for the rest of the week and would throw a fit if Mum tried to dress him in any other color.”

Harry honks a laugh, eyes closing and nose scrunching in delight. His hand flies to his mouth, but when his eyes open he sees that Louis is chuckling along as well.

“Promise I won’t tell a soul,” Harry promises.

Louis smirks. “You better not. Then our new founded friendship will be ruined by your inability to keep a secret.” Louis’ hand flies to his chest, faux-scandalized. “Unless…you’re a City fan? You did say you were from Manchester, but you didn’t say where your allegiances lie.”

“No, no, I’m a United fan,” Harry quickly reassures him, mind stuck on _friendship he said friendship we’re friends_. “I was raised right.”

Simultaneously, both their heads whip towards Joe to see if he overheard the comment, but thankfully, he didn’t, too busy laughing at a story Michael is telling with big hand gestures.

“Glad to hear it,” Louis says seriously around a sip of his beer, but Harry swears he can see Louis wink behind his aviators.

“So why are you a United fan if you’re from Leeds?” Harry asks, finger running lazily through the condensation on his beer glass.

“Well, I’m not from Leeds, for one. I’m from Doncaster.”

“Oh okay. Do they have a club?”

This time, Louis’ eye roll is evident even behind his aviators. “Do they have a club?” Louis mimics. “Of course they do. Donny Rovers. Best team in the world, I’d say. I worked at the stadium for a bit when I was in sixth form and would cheer them to victory every week. Do they have a club?” he grumbles as he takes another sip of his beer.

“I didn’t know!” Harry laughs, trying to defend himself. “I don’t follow that closely, and I’d only go to Old Trafford with my dad every other year or so. He’s the big football fan of the family.”

“Well I suppose you’re forgiven,” Louis graciously replies. “If only because I can’t say no to a man with dimples.”

The smile that breaks across Harry’s face is wide and genuine, and he fights the urge to stick his finger in his cheek to show off his dimple.

“Are you still in Doncaster then?” Harry asks. “It’s not too far from Leeds, is it?”

“Nah, not far,” Louis replies. “But I live in Leeds now – have for about seven years. Went to uni here and then got a job straight after graduation so I decided to stay.”

“So you were one of the lucky ones who were hired right after graduation?” Harry asks, disbelieving. “I thought that was a myth.”

Louis chuckles. “I did a teaching placement during my last year of uni. The music teacher retired that spring and recommended me for the job. They hired me before I even finished my degree.”

“So you’re a music teacher?” Harry asks, imagining how Louis would look with a guitar strapped across his chest or his biceps bulging as he plays the drums or how his long fingers would curl as he plays piano.

“Yep, a primary school music teacher,” Louis chuckles. “About as glamorous as it gets.”

Harry suddenly feels like he’s going to pass out. The sun feels too hot on his back as the image of Louis playing instruments with a bunch of adorable children makes his heart practically beat out of his chest. He’s only a mere mortal. He should not be expected to be confronted with these images and survive.

“That sounds amazing,” he croaks, quickly reaching for his drink to dampen his dry throat. “I bet you’re great at that. You’re so good with your siblings.”

“Thanks, mate,” Louis smiles genuinely. “I do love it, even if it means listening to a bunch of six year olds sing off pitch versions of Row Your Boat all day long.”

Harry nods, his head aching slightly as he thinks about how kids don’t tend to sing words, they tend to scream words. “Do you play any instruments?”

Louis nods. “A little bit of everything. Since I did music education at uni we were required to learn everything under the sun. I can teach you how to play bassoon, but I doubt it’ll sound any good if I try to play bassoon.” Harry chuckles as Louis continues, “My instrument is the piano. Been playing since I was about seven years old, I’d say.”

“Wow,” Harry exhales, impressed. His eyes fall to Louis’ hands, delicately wrapped around his half-empty beer glass. In what can only be a sun-induced frenzy, Harry thinks he would give up everything he has – including his childhood cat Dusty – to watch Louis’ hands as he plays piano. Small but strong, delicate but deft. “Do you get to play much?”

Louis nods. “I don’t exactly serenade the kids at work, but I usually accompany the older ones when they learn a new song. I do random gigs around town sometimes – weddings, fundraisers. That’s when I really get to play music I love.”

Harry wonders idly if Louis would play at their own wedding. Surely that wouldn’t be too difficult to coordinate?

“I love piano music,” Harry says instead. “I find it really relaxing. My bath playlist is almost entirely piano music.”

He blushes, thankfully fighting down the suggestion that Louis could play live sometime when he takes a bath. That may be too much to ask of someone for only their second time meeting.

Thankfully, Louis laughs brightly, corners of his eyes crinkling. “I’m glad you find it relaxing. I find it relaxing to play.”

 _We are literally soulmates_ , Harry thinks, hiding his smile around a sip of cider.

“So, tell me about you, then,” Louis says when Harry sets down his glass. “I’ve told you where I’m from and what I do. It’s your turn now.” His lips quirk up at the corners. “You did promise.”

Harry smiles, cheeks warm. “I did.” He pauses, unsure what exactly to share. “What do you want to know?”

Louis thinks for a moment. “Are you from Manchester originally?”

“No,” Harry replies. “I’m from Cheshire – a little village called Holmes Chapel. It’s not too far from Manchester though, so I usually do tell people I’m from there. They tend to know where that is more than they know where Holmes Chapel is, or even Cheshire for that matter.”

Louis chuckles. “My geography was always a bit shit, but I do remember learning the counties at school. I think I could find Cheshire on a map.” He pauses. “Or at least get really close.”

“Good enough for me,” Harry concedes, causing Louis to grin smugly. “But yeah, I lived there pretty much my whole life. Went to Manchester for uni, which was so great. Absolutely loved it.

“But unlike _some people_ ,” he emphasizes heavily, shooting Louis what he hopes is a withering look and making Louis laugh loudly, “I didn’t get a job offer straight out of uni. It took me a bit of time, but then I did get a full time job in Manchester.”

“Doing what?” Louis asks.

“Marketing for a real estate office.”

“That’s cool,” Louis replies genuinely.

“Yeah, it’s not so bad,” Harry nods. “My degrees from uni were Biology and Public Relations, so I had the skills needed. It wasn’t my dream job by any means, but I just needed an entry level job somewhere. After a year of unemployment, I wasn’t in any place to turn down a full-time job.”

“No,” Louis agrees. “That sucks. That sounds really difficult.”

Harry shrugs. “It wasn’t the best year of my life, that’s for sure. Thankfully my parents were really great and let me stay with them, and I worked part time at Costa while I looked for work elsewhere.”

Louis nods. “That makes sense. That’s nice you were able to do something else for a bit while you looked for a job. I can’t imagine how difficult it would be if you hadn’t been able to find part-time work.”

“God, I would have been bored out of my mind,” Harry chuckles. “And I liked Costa, even if I had to wake up at four am sometimes to get to work.”

Louis makes a face. “Four am? I didn’t think that time existed.” He pauses thoughtfully. “Maybe as a time to end the day, but certainly not a time to start the day.”

Harry laughs. “Unfortunately, I can testify that it does exist.”

Louis blows out a stream of air, clearly impressed. “I have to wake up at six for work, and I thought I had it rough.”

Harry opens his mouth to further commiserate, when several bartenders arrive at their table, carrying plates of food. They begin calling out dishes and passing them out, and Harry remembers with a start that there are other people at the table. He’d been so enveloped in his and Louis’ conversation that he wasn’t even trying to be sociable with anyone else. His mother would be horrified at his rudeness.

But as he looks around, everyone seems to be lost in their own conversations, the table broken off into pairs of twos and threes chatting amongst themselves. Harry’s sure his and Louis’ obliviousness to the rest of the table hasn’t gone unnoticed, but he’s thankful everyone has refrained from commenting on it.

The bartender sets down Harry’s food in front of him, and his mouth waters at the smell. The sandwich is delicious, and he has to refrain from shoving the whole thing in his mouth in one go.

When he looks up, Louis is munching happily on his burger, the picture of contentment.

“So, tell me more,” Louis asks around a bite of burger. “You were working at Costa and then got a job at a real estate office, and then what?”

“Well,” Harry says, wiping a bit of grease from his fingers onto his napkin. “I worked at the real estate office for about six months, but then they said they didn’t have enough money in their branch to keep me on. I was the newest member of the marketing team, so it made sense that I’d be the one to lose my job. But they told me they could transfer me to Leeds if I wanted, since that branch was slightly bigger so they could take me on.”

“And I figure you took the job?” Louis guesses, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Yeah,” Harry nods. “The idea of being unemployed again after finally getting a job was just unbearable. I’d rather move to Leeds than move back into my mum’s basement.”

“That makes sense,” Louis replies, popping a chip into his mouth. “That’s what I would have done as well, I think.”

“It wasn’t an easy decision, if I’m honest,” Harry admits, shoulders sagging in on himself. “Moving is really difficult. My whole life was in Manchester. But Manchester didn’t want me. Leeds did.”

“Well, Leeds is happy to have you,” Louis says, giving Harry a kind smile.

Harry brightens a bit at that, undeniably pleased. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Louis replies, expression soft and lips curved.

Harry blushes, taking a bite of his sandwich to prevent himself from saying something embarrassing. Something about how spending time with Louis makes him feel for the first time that the move was worth it.

“Everyone’s been really lovely,” Harry says instead. “I’m really glad I found the LHS. They’ve been really great about welcoming me to the city and helping me settle. Susan even took me on a tour of Leeds when she found out I was new to the area.”

Louis chuckles, taking another bite of his burger. “How long have you been here for?”

“I moved right before Christmas, so just over three months. I joined the LHS about a month after moving, and they really were the first friends I made here. They’re great.”

“Yeah, I always think that people, not a place, make somewhere feel like home,” Louis observes sagely.

Harry nods his agreement. “I think that’s why I’ve had such a difficult time adjusting to Leeds.” When Louis’ brow furrows, Harry elaborates, “I mean, I have a community and a sense of belonging in the LHS, but I guess I don’t really have a community anywhere else.” He blushes, embarrassed to admit that he hasn’t really made many other friends since moving. “If I want a lads’ night or something, I have to go back to Manchester. I don’t really have that here.”

Louis takes a bite of a chip, chewing thoughtfully. Harry ducks his head, sipping at his glass only to find it empty.

When Louis speaks again, Harry’s head whips up, eyes locking, green on blue. “Look, I know we just met, and I don’t want you to feel obligated or anything, but you’re welcome to join me and my mates anytime. We’re a pretty low key bunch – we go to the pub sometimes, or sometimes we just stay in and watch a film. They’re my best mates from uni, and they’re really fun. We’re having a movie night tonight, and you’re welcome to join if you want.”

Harry can barely believe what he’s hearing. For months he’s been struggling to form friendships with people his own age, and Louis is just – offering him the solution like it costs him nothing. Like Harry wouldn’t be eternally grateful for finding a group of friends he clicked with.

“Um, yeah,” Harry replies, trying to keep the excitement out of his voice. “If you’re sure you wouldn’t mind, that would be – that would be really great.”

“Yay!” Louis exclaims, lighting up like a child who just found out he can stay up past his bedtime. He reaches into his pocket and digs out his phone, passing it across the table to Harry. “Pop your number in there and I’ll text you the details. I think we’re watching _Guardians of the Galaxy_ , but I’m not sure. Have you seen it?”

Harry shakes his head no, distracted by Louis’ phone wallpaper. It’s a picture of the twins giving each other a kiss in front of some flowers. His heart melts as he taps his number into Louis’ phone.

“Ace,” Louis says when Harry passes back the phone. “Well, you should definitely come round. It’ll be a good time.”

“I will,” Harry promises. “Thanks for inviting me. It sounds really great.”

Lunch wraps up soon after that, everyone finishing their food and drinks with contented sighs. Ernest had snagged Louis’ attention as soon as he stopped eating, demanding that they play tag around the beer garden. Louis complies to the delight of his siblings, but only if they promised to stay out of everyone’s way.

When Louis gets up from the table to chase them around and Olive leaves to go to the loo, Jane gives Harry a nudge. When he turns his attention to her, he finds that the entire table has their eyes fixed on him.

“What?” Harry asks, laughing awkwardly.

“We see right through you, Harry Styles,” Susan smugly announces. “We can tell you’re as charmed by that boy as he is by you.”

“Can’t we have a nice chat?” Harry asks, trying to hide how pleased he is that they said Louis was charmed by him. It’s not that he minds that the volunteers think he and Louis would be good together, it’s just that he’s always preferred to keep his personal life private. Especially from gossipy friends.

The entire table seems to roll their eyes simultaneously.

“If you don’t do something about that, we will,” Rebecca declares.

Before Harry can even ask what that means, Doris and Ernest run up to the table, Louis right on their heels. Everyone quickly goes back to their own conversations, acting like they weren’t pestering Harry mere moments ago.

Harry rolls his eyes at them, turning his attention back to the excited twins. “Well, that was the fastest game of tag ever.”

Louis huffs a laugh. “Doris thought staying out of everyone’s way meant that she could run towards the street, so I thought maybe we’d wait until we get home and play tag in the garden.”

“Probably a good idea,” Harry replies, thankful Louis had caught Doris before she’d been able to run into the street.

“We should actually head out, yeah?” Louis says, reaching down to grab his and the twins’ bags. “I told Mum I’d have them back early today. But I’ll see you later tonight, right?”

Harry is thankful Louis said that last part quiet enough where he doubts any of the volunteers overheard. He doesn’t want their suspicions confirmed or denied in any capacity.

“Yeah, I’ll be there,” Harry replies, earning himself a pleased smile from Louis. “I should probably head out too.” He doesn’t really have anything planned, but if he’s going to see Louis again in about six hours, he wants to shower. And, you know, have ample time to mentally prepare.

Louis nods as Olive comes out of the pub, walking up to them.

“Are you boys leaving?” she asks, wrapping her arm around Louis’ waist.

He slings his arm over her shoulders, pulling her into his side and giving her a kiss on the forehead. “Yeah, I’ve gotta get the monsters back to Mum.”

“Thanks for bringing them around,” Olive says. “Always nice getting to see them. And you too.”

“Yeah, it’s always lovely,” Louis replies, giving Olive a hug.

He steps out of her embrace so that she can give Ernest and Doris hugs and kisses on the forehead. They cling to her tightly, their love for their nan evident. Harry can’t help but watch fondly.

The group begins to dissipate, and some of them head towards the park, back to where they left their cars. The volunteers call their farewells, reminding Harry that there’s a meeting on Monday and they’ll see him then. Harry nods, wishing them a happy rest of the weekend.

“I’ll see you tonight?” Louis asks again as he and Harry part ways, pushing his aviators onto his head to reveal his hopeful expression.

“Definitely,” Harry agrees. “See you then.”

“Bye Harry!” Doris and Ernest call, waving excitedly as they begin to walk away.

“Bye!” Harry calls back, waving his arms in what he hopes is a ridiculous enough manner to make them laugh.

It seems to succeed, the twins’ laughter clear even as they walk further away. But what really makes Harry’s heart jump is how he can hear Louis’ laugh above theirs, bright and happy.

Harry can hardly help it when he practically skips the rest of the way to his car.

 

When Harry shows up at Louis’ doorstep later that night, his arms are so full that he can hardly knock on the door.

He ends up kicking at the door with the side of his foot, hoping it sounds friendly instead of threatening.

Louis opens the door only a moment later and he breaks into a fit of laughter at the sight.

“Are you moving in?” he laughs, reaching to grab one of the bags hanging from Harry’s arms.

“No,” Harry huffs a laugh, balancing the cake on his arm. “I just wanted to bring some food, but I didn’t know what you and your friends would like, so I kind of brought everything.”

“My kind of man,” a voice calls from inside the flat. As Louis leads him inside, Harry sees two men leaning against the counter in the kitchen. They have beers in their hands, the picture of ease. They both have brown hair and scruffy beards, and Harry can’t help but wonder if Louis’ friends are all less-Greek-god-like clones of himself. “I’m Niall,” says the man who just spoke, reaching out his hand to shake Harry’s. “Nice to meet you.”

“You as well,” Harry replies, dumping the food on the counter before taking Niall’s hand. “I’m Harry.”

“And I’m Liam,” says the other man, shaking Harry’s hand firmly.

Louis steps between the two, clapping hands on Liam and Niall’s shoulders. “They’re my partners in crime from uni,” Louis explains. “Been best friends for – how many years now, lads?”

Liam rolls his eyes. “I wouldn’t say partner in crime. I was more like the unwilling accomplice.”

Niall snorts into his beer. “Yeah, because it definitely wasn’t your idea to streak at that rugby match during third year.”

Harry laughs along with the others, even though they are laughing at the memory while Harry laughs at the suggestion. “You guys streaked at a rugby match?”

“Nope,” Louis says, popping open a beer and passing it to Harry. “That was all Liam.”

“Cheers,” Liam says dryly. “He’s only just met me and he’ll think I have a nudist penchant.”

“It’s very freeing,” Harry comments neutrally, making the others laugh.

“So, what did you bring with you?” Louis asks, gesturing towards the bags Harry placed on the kitchen top.

“Right,” Harry says, rifling through them. “I brought beer and wine because I wasn’t sure which you guys would prefer. I also brought tortilla and some homemade salsa. I also brought some strawberries because they’re in season now, and some cheese. And I baked a cake.” He chews his lip nervously. “I hope you like chocolate. It’s my favorite so that’s what I made.”

“Christ,” Niall laughs, slinging his arm around Harry’s shoulders. “I’m keeping him.” He drops his voice, pretending to only speak to Harry, but still loud enough for the others to hear. “Lou only ever gives us beer and some stale chips.”

“Oi, none of that!” Louis exclaims, making Harry laugh. For a moment, Harry thinks Louis’ eyes flash resentfully towards Niall’s arm wrapped around Harry’s shoulders. The moment is gone before Harry can dwell on it. “I won’t have you bashing my hosting skills, Horan.”

“But Harry brought _cake_ ,” he protests, Liam and Harry laughing while Louis rolls his eyes.

“Why don’t you make yourself useful and go set up the film,” Louis dismisses. Niall and Liam grumble good naturedly as they head out of the kitchen.

Louis sets about putting the extra beer in the freezer, and Harry unloads the salsa and tortilla chips from the bag. As Louis putters about the kitchen, Harry gets his first proper look at him. He’s in a loose fitted black top with blue jeans hugging his legs. He’s barefoot, looking comfortable and casual.

Harry, who had spent about an hour on his outfit tonight, hopes he isn’t overdressed. It’s the first time for Louis to see him outside of the park, which means Harry had done away with his tattered blue jeans and holey t-shirts that he reserves for gardening. Instead, he’s wearing a red patterned top, black jeans, and his favorite boots. They’re not his fanciest clothes by any means, but he knows the jeans hug him nicely and he left the shirt unbuttoned just enough to reveal a bit of his chest.

“Um, I hope you don’t mind that I brought all of this,” Harry says, suddenly nervous as he digs through the grocery bags. “I wasn’t trying to upstage you as a host or anything. Just my mum always taught me to bring something to someone’s house, and I may have gotten a bit carried away –”

“It’s alright,” Louis cuts off Harry’s apologetic rambling. He laughs lightly. “We all take the piss out of each other. I seriously don’t mind. Niall’s right – we would have been eating frozen chips if you hadn’t brought all of that, so cheers. Seriously.”

“Oh, okay. Good,” Harry replies, nervously tucking a small curl behind his ear.

“No worries,” Louis smiles at him. “Should we do cake now or later? You’re the food expert.”

“Maybe later?” Harry suggests. “Crisps and salsa is always a good starter.” He pulls them out of the bag.

“I agree.” Louis clinks his beer glass with Harry’s before leading him out of the kitchen.

Harry has his first proper look around the flat and finds it to be comfortable and homey. The kitchen opens up to the living room, a wide space with couches, a TV, and two bookcases. A piano rests in the corner by the window, piles of piano books and sheet music resting on top of it. Harry can’t help but imagine Louis sitting there, playing while the sunlight streams in. It’s an arousing, yet calming image.

The walls are littered with pictures, and Harry has to fight the urge to look at each one. He thinks from a distance he can spot a picture of Louis with Ernest and Doris, the twins clinging to him as they beam toothily at the camera.

Between the kitchen and living room is a small hallway, which Harry imagines leads to the bedroom. He cranes his neck to look down the hallway, but the door to the bedroom is firmly – and unfairly – shut.

Liam has settled in the armchair next to the sofa, leaving the couch for Niall, Louis, and Harry. There’s a coffee table in front of the sofa, and Harry sets his drink down on a coaster. His heart thrills at the knowledge that Louis uses coasters.

“So you do gardening then?” Liam asks as he takes a handful of crisps and plunks them into the salsa. “That’s how Lou said you two met?”

“Yeah, I volunteer with the Leeds Horticultural Society,” Harry explains, “and Louis’ nan is a member.”

“I take the kiddos to the park every weekend,” Louis adds. “And since he was the only member of the LHS under sixty-five, we got to chatting.”

“That makes sense, then,” Niall says, crunching noisily on the crisps. “When Lou said he’d met someone while gardening, I was like, you gotta be shitting me. He can’t garden for his life. Remember in second year when you got some roses for your birthday?”

Louis rolls his eyes, sipping his beer and pointedly not contributing.

“Those roses were dead by Christmas!” Niall hoots, laughing loudly.

Harry scrunches his brow, not understanding the joke. Louis notices, and with an exasperated sigh, explains, “My birthday is Christmas Eve. So what Niall is oh-so-cleverly suggesting is that I couldn’t even keep them alive for a day.”

“I’m not suggesting it!” Niall protests. “It’s true!”

“It was,” Liam jumps in. “I remember you texted us the picture on your birthday about how happy you were that your boyfriend at the time got you flowers, but then the next day you texted us that they were dead. It was pitiful.”

“It’s not my fault that it was winter and cold,” Louis defends. “Flowers are supposed to only grow in the spring. That’s why they died so quickly. Not because of me.”

“Roses actually grow year round,” Harry interjects. “It depends on the type, but most of them do.” He pauses thoughtfully. “But if they were cut, then it would have been up to you to keep them alive. Unless the boy gave you a planted rosebush or something.”

Niall and Liam laugh obnoxiously, while Louis pouts. “You’re not supposed to side with them, Harry!” he exclaims. “You’re _my_ friend – you’re supposed to defend _me_!”

Harry laughs along with them as Niall claps his back. “Too bad, Tommo,” Niall chirps. “Harry’s on our side now.”

A wave of acceptance washes over Harry and he can’t help the self-satisfied grin that creeps across his face. When he hazards a look at Louis, he looks anything but annoyed. Instead, a fond smile has broken across Louis’ face, clearly pleased that Harry is getting on so well with his mates.

Harry turns the conversation back to Liam and Niall after that, eager to learn more about his two new friends.

Niall was born and raised in Ireland, and moved to England when he started his first year at Leeds. He and Louis lived in the same block of flats along with five other blokes, and they hit it off right from the start. They quickly gained a reputation around campus, both as pranksters and as the life of the party.

Liam joined their group when Louis met him in a music class during second year. Liam knew of Louis’ and Niall’s infamous pranks and made his disapproval widely known. Louis and Niall had been shocked to learn that was because he had been staging a prank on them. Everything went to literal shit when Liam brought a pan of “special brownies” to pre-drinks one Friday evening. Louis and Niall had gobbled them up greedily, wanting a buzz to add to their club night. It hadn’t taken them very long to realize that the “special” ingredient wasn’t pot, but laxatives.

Louis and Niall had spent the rest of the night fighting over the loo in their two-bedroom flat, Liam cackling the night away.

The three had been inseparable after that, Niall’s and Louis’ respect freely given after being pranked so unexpectedly and so extremely.

Niall had received a Politics degree from uni and is now in law school. Liam, on the other hand, works as an independently contracted songwriter. He proudly tells Harry about his home office that he designed himself and how he gets to take frequent trips to the capital to meet with execs who want his songs.

“Do you play any?” Harry asks Liam. “Or do you and Louis ever play together?”

Liam nods. “I studied music business at uni, but I love to sing. So usually Louis and I do covers of songs. He’ll play and I’ll sing.”

“I’d love to hear one sometime,” Harry suggests, not wanting to force them to play if they don’t want to, but not hiding the genuine hope in his voice that they would.

“Get enough drinks in them and they won’t stop playing,” Niall grumbles. “Can’t tell you how many house parties these two have killed because they wanted to put on a show.”

“Excuse me,” Louis cuts in. “ _Everyone_ loves when we play at parties. It’s not like I’m playing Mozart.” He rolls his eyes and Harry laughs. “I’m pretty sure doing drunken renditions of the Spice Girls’ greatest hits is one of our party favorites.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Niall chuckles.

 Just then, Liam’s phone begins ringing shrilly, making Harry jump slightly.

“No, leave it,” Niall whines as Liam checks his phone and his face contorts into what looks like an almost painful smitten expression. “It’s lads’ night. Tell your bloody girlfriend to leave you alone.”

“I’m sure it will only take a minute,” Liam says, climbing out of the chair and heading into the hallway. Harry can hear him murmur “hey babe” into the receiver and Niall and Louis gag obnoxiously.

“Well that’s the last we’ll see of Liam tonight,” Louis announces. “I’m getting more beer. Anyone else want any?”

“Me,” Niall says automatically, Harry echoing with a polite “please.”

“Alright, alright,” Louis replies, shuffling into the kitchen and leaving Niall and Harry alone.

“Liam’s just got this new girlfriend,” Niall says, reaching for more crisps. “He’s absolutely obsessed, and it makes him a right pain in the arse.”

“No, it’s cute,” Harry defends. “It’s nice that he likes her.”

Niall shrugs. After a moment he says, “Are you seeing anyone?”

“Me?” Harry replies, slightly uncomfortable with the question. “Um, no. I just moved here, so –”

“Well, if you’re interested,” Niall says, “I know a great bloke who I think you’d really get on with.” He pauses. “If you’re into blokes. I don’t want to assume –”

“No, it’s okay,” Harry cuts him off. “I do like blokes, but I’m not interested in dating right now.” Niall gives him a questioning look, and Harry struggles to explain himself, even though he knows he doesn’t owe an explanation. “I just moved here and I think it’s more important to establish a solid friend group before trying to get into a relationship, if that makes sense.”

It’s partially true. While Harry doesn’t think he’d turn anyone down who he was genuinely interested in (he tries not to think of Louis), he doesn’t want to be set up with someone. Blind dates make him incredibly uncomfortable, so he hopes Niall is placated by his reasoning.

Niall doesn’t seem to mind, shrugging and saying, “Alright, mate. But let me know if you change your mind. I think he’d be keen.”

Harry’s about to say he doesn’t think he’ll change his mind, when Louis reappears by the sofa, balancing three beers in hand.

“Drinks all around,” Louis announces, placing the drinks on the table, and Harry’s eyes fly to him. His voice sounds different, a bit forced. He has a funny expression on his face, his smile not quite making his eyes crinkle like they usually do. Harry fights down the urge to grab Louis’ hand and pull him into his side. He wants to wrap his arms around him and ask what’s wrong, and tell bad jokes until the crinkles appear again.

But before he can do any of that, Liam reappears, pocketing his phone and plopping back down on the armchair. “Are we ever going to start this film?” he asks, reaching for his beer.

“You were the one who fucked off,” Niall points out, teasing.

“For not even five minutes!” Liam protests, but Louis cuts off their bickering.

“Shush, I’m going to play the film now, and you have to be quiet because Harry hasn’t seen it before.”

Louis sits down on the sofa next to Harry, picking up the remote off the coffee table and pressing play.

“You haven’t seen it before?” Niall asks in disbelief. “Prepare to be amazed.”

Liam echoes his agreement, and Louis shushes them one more time.

Before turning his full attention to the film, Louis looks over his shoulder at Harry. Harry gives him a small smile, hoping to convey his excitement at the film but also being here with Louis and his friends who he seems to be getting on with really well.

Louis studies him for a second, face unreadable, but then a smile breaks across his face as well, eyes crinkling. Harry’s heart stutters, and continues its irregular beating as Louis sits back against the couch, their arms pressed together.

Harry can feel the warmth of Louis’ skin against his, a heavy but pleasant weight against his arm. He wishes he could wrap his arm around Louis’ smaller frame and tug him into his side, so that their heat really would seep together.

But instead he contents himself with Louis close by his side and his two new mates lounging around him, happy and comfortable.

 

Harry, Liam, and Niall head home sometime after midnight, exhausted but unwilling to leave when they are having such a nice time.

They ended up chatting for quite a while once the film finished, Niall and Liam curious to learn more about why Harry moved to Leeds and how he is settling in.

When Harry was telling them about his new job, Niall had piped up excitedly, “Wait, I think I know where your office is! That’s near my flat.”

“By the uni?” Harry had asked.

“Yep,” Niall confirmed. “We should grab lunch someday. I always do my readings during my lunch breaks, so it’d be nice to have a change of pace.”

Harry had agreed, and they’d swapped numbers.

“Well, good thing we don’t feel left out,” Louis grumbled teasingly. “When they’re having their lunches together, Payno, let’s do something ourselves.”

Liam rolled his eyes. “You’re required to stay on campus for lunches. You’ve said so before anytime I tried to invite you to lunch with me and Kate.”

“Oh, right. Yeah, it’s impossible for me to leave during lunch,” Louis had replied, winking at Harry and making him giggle.

The rest of the night had passed in a similar fashion – teasing and getting to know each other. Niall, Liam, and Louis had an obviously close friendship, and while they shared many private jokes, they did their best to include Harry, making him laugh and letting him join in on the fun.

As Harry shrugs on his jacket, he finds himself reluctant to leave.

“Good night,” Niall and Liam call, clapping Louis on the back as they head out the door, bags of food in hand. They’d divided up the leftovers the best they could, but decided to keep the foods that wouldn’t spoil at Louis’.

“We’ll save them for next week,” Louis had suggested, and Harry felt a thrill at the prospect of another lads’ night.

Harry awkwardly shuffles his feet for a moment at the door. Niall and Liam are already outside, leaving him and Louis alone. Harry holds the door handle, inclining his body towards Louis.

“Thanks for inviting me, Lou. It’s been such a wonderful night,” Harry tells him, voice genuine.

“I’m glad you had a good time,” Louis replies, smiling as he brushes his fringe off his forehead. “You’re a fun addition. You’ll definitely have to come round more often.”

“I’d like that.” Harry feels like it’s the end of a first date, nervous energy thrumming through his veins. Louis looks so soft in the dim hall light, head tipped back slightly to look up at Harry from how close they’re standing. His lips are curved in a smile, and Harry wants to kiss him. He wants to put his hands on Louis’ hips, feel the contours of his body, and press their mouths together in a sweet kiss over and over again.

Louis studies him in return, both men frozen in the moment. It feels like gravity is pulling them together, Louis drifting towards Harry and Harry desperately wanting to bend his head down to capture Louis’ mouth with his own.

“Good night, Harry,” Louis says, stepping forward to wrap his arms around Harry in a hug. Louis’ body molds to the shape of Harry’s, curves lining up in intimate perfection. Harry slips his arms around Louis’ shoulders, tugging him closer. He catches a brief whiff of Louis’ shampoo, sporty and sharp. The soft strands of Louis’ hair brush his cheek, a feather-light touch.

Louis’ arms are tight around Harry’s back, his body warm and small and perfect. Harry doesn’t want to let go.

But the moment ends, Harry and Louis stepping apart with their arms falling to their sides. Harry’s arms immediately feel empty, aching to hold Louis again.

“Good night, Louis,” Harry replies. He steps outside, barely able to process what just happened as Louis gives him a little wave before shutting the door.

Harry stands there dumbstruck, staring at the door until Niall claims his attention.

“Harry, mate, it was great meeting you,” Niall says, wrapping him in a hug. He squeezes tightly, and Harry squeezes back. He misses a good cuddle. “Text me about lunch. Seriously. Wednesdays are best for me since I don’t have afternoon classes. Just let me know!”

“I will,” Harry promises, intending to keep it.

“Night, mate,” Liam says next, also giving Harry a hug. “Join us for lads’ night anytime.”

“Thanks, I will,” Harry agrees, giving them both friendly smiles.

They head off to their cars with one final wave, and as Harry drives home, he can’t stop smiling. He’s met some people who he really got on with, and he promises himself to be intentional on following up with Niall and Liam. He wants to get to know them better and form friendships with them. He’ll text Niall in the next day or so to set up lunch and then maybe invite Liam out for a coffee.

But Harry doesn’t know what to do about Louis. His attraction to his new friend is undeniable, but he also can see how well they get on as mates. Louis is funny and witty, quick and charming. Regardless of his attraction to Louis, he wants to get to know him better because he thinks they really could be great friends.

Still, Harry can’t help but think how Louis’ hug had felt. The air had been charged, filled with potential and hope. And Louis’ body had fit so perfectly against Harry’s, his curves fitting into Harry’s like puzzle pieces. And Niall and Liam’s hugs had been so different, casual and brief, a farewell. Louis had seemed unwilling to let go.

Shaking his head, Harry decides that whatever it means, it doesn’t matter. Hopefully, having some solid friends will make Leeds feel more like home.

He doesn’t stop smiling the rest of the drive home.

 

“Did you make these scones?” Harry asks Jane, crumbs tumbling out of his mouth. “They’re delicious.”

“I did,” Jane confirms, passing Harry another one from the food table. “I can give you the recipe if you like.”

“I’d love that,” Harry replies, stacking a few other finger foods onto his Styrofoam plate.

Jane grins at him as they head into the hall, taking seats alongside other members of the Leeds Horticultural Society. There are about seventy members at the meeting, all crammed into plastic seats and chatting noisily. As he waits for the meeting to begin, Harry chats with some of the volunteers sitting around him. While he knows quite a few of them from their monthly meetings, not everyone volunteers at the same park or on the same day. The LHS spans the entirety of the city, and while Harry appreciates their expansive work, it means he doesn’t know some members as well as others.

He chats with a woman named Esther who volunteers at Woodhouse Moor near the uni. She tells him about her grandchildren and the flowers she’s been growing, and Harry tells her about the gardening he’s been doing.

They make small talk until the meeting starts, the society’s president Mary Beth stepping forward to lead the proceedings. As she makes announcements and shares general gardening tips, Harry listens with interest. She encourages everyone to sign up for the trip in May to London for the Chelsea Flower Show. Harry won’t be able to attend since he has to work, but the excitement in the room about the trip makes him wish he could.

He’s provided with an exciting alternative a moment later.

“Now it’s time to start discussing preparations for the Leeds Flower Show!” Mary Beth announces enthusiastically, eliciting cheers from the volunteers.

Harry’s brow furrows. This is the first he’s heard of a Leeds Flower Show.

“What’s that?” he whispers to Jane.

“It’s a flower show the LHS puts on every year,” she explains. “Everyone gets together at one of the parks and we have a big barbeque and show off the flowers we’ve grown. It’s good fun.”

“That does sound fun!” Harry agrees, excitement building.

He tunes back in to what Mary Beth is saying just as she announces, “And this year we’ve chosen to host the event at Bramley Park in northwest Leeds.”

The Bramley Park volunteers cheer and Harry claps with them.

“It’s the last Saturday in May, so mark your calendars,” Mary Beth continues with a smile. “We have signup sheets for the different foods we’ll need, so if you sign up, please make sure you bring what you said you would. Feel free to bring family and friends and pets. We’ll be giving out awards at the show, but it’ll all be in good fun. It should be a great day!”

Everyone echoes their agreement, the meeting ending shortly after.

Before he leaves, Harry chats with a small group of volunteers, asking about the flower show.

“Oh, it’s always a lovely day out,” Rebecca says fondly. “I bring the grandkids and they run around and we get to show off our flowers.”

“The gardens are always beautifully in bloom,” a man named Jacob agrees. Harry remembers him saying he works during the week at Bramley. “We always take a lot of photos and put them in the newsletter.”

“ _The Yorkshire Post_ did a story on it last year,” Olive adds proudly. “Made the front page.”

“It did not,” Rebecca chides. “The front page was about the monkey that escaped from the zoo. We were on the next page.”

Harry laughs at that while Olive adds, “Well, it was worthy of the front page.”

Harry fights down the urge to ask Olive if she’ll invite her family to the flower show. He could make it about seeing the twins, but Harry knows everyone will know he’s actually asking about Louis. The show is still two months away, and Harry realizes with excitement that if his friendship with Louis continues, he could always just invite Louis himself.

“Have you thought about adding more flowers to your garden plot, Harry?” Rebecca asks, pulling him from his thoughts. “Your plot could be really colorful by the time of the flower show.”

“That’s not a bad idea,” Harry agrees. “Some purple flowers could look really lovely with the daffodils. Maybe violets?”

“I have some amaryllis seeds,” Olive pipes up. “I was going to use them, but decided against it. You can have them, if you’d like. They’re pink I believe, but they’d look lovely with the daffodils.”

“Ooh, yes I love pink flowers,” Harry replies, fighting the urge to clap his hands like an overexcited child.

“I’ll bring them Saturday, then,” Olive promises, and Harry thanks her.

Everyone heads out shortly after that, calling their farewells. Harry waves goodbye, giving out hugs and friendly cheek kisses.

Harry zips up his jacket as he walks to the car, shivering slightly. The days may be mildly warm now that it’s the end of March, but it still feels like winter when the sun sets and the wind picks up.

He flips on the heating as soon as he gets in the car, checking his phone while he waits for the car to warm up. He has a new message from his mum and two from his sister Gemma, but the one that catches his eye is a message from Niall. He thumbs it open first.

_Hey mate. If you’re still up for lunch on Wednesday, I know a great Japanese place in between your office and the uni. Would you be free?_

Harry smiles to himself as he reads the message. He had meant to text Niall earlier in the day to ask him for lunch, but it seems Niall has beaten him to it. Harry types out a reply without even checking his calendar. He knows he’s free.

_Sounds great. Would 12:30 work for you?_

While he waits for a response, he checks his messages from his mum and Gemma, typing quick replies to the questions about his day and replying with approximately one million x’s to the picture of Gemma’s cat asleep on her chest.

Just as he’s about to put his phone down to drive home, a message from Niall pings through.

_Perfect. See you then!_

Harry smiles, excited to see Niall again. He sends a simple reply before putting his car in reverse and heading home.

_Looking forward to it!_

 

The Japanese restaurant is fairly crowded when Harry arrives, but a quick glance around shows that Niall hasn’t arrived yet.

Harry lets the hostess lead him to a table, wanting to grab one before the restaurant gets any busier. He seats himself facing the entrance so that he’ll see Niall when he arrives and begins looking over the menu.

Barely five minutes have passed when Harry hears his name called, his head whipping up to see Niall striding towards him with a big smile on his face.

“Good to see you, mate,” Harry greets as he gives Niall a hug.

“You too,” Niall replies, taking a seat opposite him. “Sorry I’m late – bloody class ran over.”

“No worries,” Harry responds. “I’ve been looking over the menu, and I’m glad for the extra time since I have no idea what to order. Everything sounds delicious.”

Niall doesn’t even pick up his menu, leaning across the table to point at Harry’s. “They do a mean curry. It’s fairly spicy though, so just a warning. I usually go for their noodles though.”

Harry makes a face. “I ate so much Pot Noodles at uni that I haven’t had a craving for them since.”

Niall chuckles. “Well, Pot Noodles are nothing like actual Asian ramen noodles. When I was in Southeast Asia, it’s what I lived on. They were so good. And this place does them the closest to like the ones I had there.”

Harry nods. “Where did you go in Southeast Asia?”

“All over,” Niall replies. “I took a year off in between uni and law school, and I spent three months of it travelling around.” He counts off on his fingers. “Vietnam, Malaysia, Singapore, Thailand, Cambodia, and Hong Kong.”

“Wow,” Harry can’t hide how impressed he is. “I think the furthest I’ve ever gone is Rome. And that was for a school trip.”

Niall laughs loudly and begins telling Harry stories about his travels. They order – Harry deciding to go with noodles on Niall’s adamant recommendation – and then settle in. Niall tells him about law school and how his reading list is seemingly endless. He asks Harry more about his life in Leeds and how he’s finding his job. Harry shrugs, saying he can’t complain since work is work. Niall nods in understanding.

Eventually, the conversation shifts to Niall’s friendships with Liam and Louis. He tells outrageous stories from their days at uni, a glimmer of wistfulness in his eyes. Harry laughs at the different stories, easily imagining the three of them getting up to mischief, and wishing he could have seen it for himself.

When their food arrives, Harry takes one bite of his noodle dish and Niall gives him a pointed look, eyebrows raised.

“So?” he asks.

Harry rolls his eyes, huffing a laugh. “You’re right. These noodles are much better than Pot Noodles.”

Niall laughs triumphantly. “I mean, I knew I was right, but it’s nice to convert people into noodle fans.”

“Is that your life’s mission?” Harry teases.

“Absolutely,” Niall replies, fixing his face into a semi-serious expression. “My theory is that everyone is scarred by Pot Noodles since they eat them so much at uni. One bite and they’re taken back to the days of communal showers and being so broke they can barely buy bread.” They both shudder at the memories before Niall continues, “And that puts people off noodles. But if they have a proper noodle from an Asian restaurant, well, they’re totally different. And fucking good.”

Harry nods his agreement, clumsily using his chopsticks to take another bite. “I concur. Consider me the latest convert to the noodle fan club.”

A glimmer of amusement crosses Niall’s face. He drops his chopsticks and holds up his right hand, gesturing for Harry to do the same. Harry giggles, placing his chopsticks on his napkin before trying to school his expression into something serious and holding up his right hand.

“Repeat after me,” Niall instructs. “I, state your name.”

“I, state your name,” Harry replies cheekily, making Niall roll his eyes in exasperation.

“That was horrible,” Niall criticizes. “That’s not even an original joke. If you’re not going to take this seriously, then I’m going to withdraw your membership from the noodle fan club.”

“I’m sorry,” Harry mumbles. “Please don’t take away my membership.”

“Then take this seriously!” Niall commands, and Harry fights a smile. “I, state your name.”

“I, Harry Styles,” Harry dutifully and correctly repeats.

“Do solemnly swear.”

“Do solemnly swear.”

“To always love noodles.”

“To always love noodles.”

“And to convert everyone I meet.”

“And to convert everyone I meet.”

Niall nods, reaching across the table to shake Harry’s hand. “Well done. Welcome to the noodle fan club.”

Harry shakes Niall’s hand firmly. “It’s an honor.”

They hold their serious expressions for another moment before they both burst into laughter.

“I feel like I just joined a cult,” Harry chuckles.

“A noodle cult!” Niall exclaims. “Much better than a noodle fan club.”

“Will we invite Liam and Louis to our fan club?” Harry asks, picking up his chopsticks and plucking a piece of beef from the bowl. “Or are they already members?”

“I think they’d join,” Niall muses. “Both of them will eat pretty much anything. Louis’ a bit pickier than Liam, but that’s just because he likes his staples. Pizza, pizza, and more pizza.”

Harry chuckles, sipping at his water. “Nothing wrong with that. Pizza is one of the greatest foods in the world.”

“Cheers to that,” Niall agrees, clinking their water glasses.

They sit in comfortable silence for a moment, both eating their noodles, when Niall speaks again. “I’m glad Louis invited you to lads’ night. You’re a fun bloke to have around.”

“Thanks, mate,” Harry replies earnestly. “That’s so nice of you to say.”

“Yeah, he’d just texted us on Saturday afternoon and said he met a guy that volunteers with his nan and invited him to hang out with us that night. He said he thought we’d get on with you. Lou has a good sense about those kinds of things, so it wasn’t surprising he was right.”

Harry nods. “I’m glad you think so.”

“Yeah,” Niall continues, “I know how hard it is to move, especially when you don’t know anybody. If there’s any way we can help you out, just let me know.”

“Thanks,” Harry replies, touched. “I think meeting people’s been the hardest bit, so it’s really been great getting to know Louis and now you and Liam.”

Niall smiles. “Glad to hear it. Saturday was a right laugh. You’ll have to come when we do a pub night sometime. We love a bit of karaoke.”

“Well, you’re in luck because I am a karaoke master,” Harry brags proudly. “I know ABBA’s entire discography by heart.”

Niall chuckles. “You should have been here when Lou was in _Mamma Mia!_ then. Jesus Christ, I think all he sang for months was ABBA.”

“They’re iconic,” Harry argues in Louis’ defense. “And they have so many classic songs. How could you not love Waterloo? Or Dancing Queen?”

Niall laughs. “Point taken. I can confess to drunkenly dancing to both those songs on more than one occasion.”

Harry cackles around a bite of noodle. “You’re in good company then.”

Niall grins.

They finish up their lunch and Harry suggests they meet up next week.

“I’m already craving another noodle,” he teases.

“Well, you are the newest member of the fan club,” Niall points out. “It makes sense you want to make a good impression.”

Niall chuckles as they head out of the restaurant. Harry looks at his watch begrudgingly, knowing he only has about five minutes left of his lunch break. After such an easygoing and cheerful lunch, Harry is loath to go back to work.

“We’ll see you at Lou’s on Saturday, then?” Niall says, clapping Harry on the back. “I need more of that chocolate cake in my life. That was like – transcendent.”

Harry laughs. “I knew you were just keeping me around for my cake baking abilities.”

“Damn it,” Niall snaps his fingers. “I was hoping to weasel at least two more cakes out of you before you figured it out.”

“Too clever for ya,” Harry teases and Niall laughs. “Alright, I’ll see you Saturday. Have a good rest of your day!”

“Cheers, you too!” Niall calls, waving as he heads down the pavement.

Harry waves back, returning to work feeling much more relaxed than when he left. His boss is immediately sure to fix that, giving him a new project with a deadline of the following week. He spends the final hours of his work day buried under a mountain of work, trying to come up with an idea that’s at least semi-feasible in such a short time frame.

He forgets all about his lunch with Niall until later that evening. He’s half asleep on the sofa, head lolling against the armrest as the TV plays in the background when his phone chimes.

His body is so heavy with sleep that he doesn’t want to move. When his phone chimes again, he groans, pushing himself off the couch to grab his phone from where it’s resting on the coffee table.

When he sees he has two new messages from Louis, he suddenly feels much more awake.

 _Heard you and Niall had a nice lunch today. Well, I just wanted to assure you that Liam and I had an even nicer lunch_.

Attached is a photo of Louis and Liam at what must be Louis’ school. They’re sitting in tiny plastic chairs, their knees drawn up too high to be comfortable. Louis beams brightly at the camera, a sandwich in hand, while Liam offers a thumbs up in the background.

Harry chuckles at the picture, staring at Louis’ smiling face for a beat before saving it to his camera roll.

He feels giddy as he comes up with a reply. While Louis had texted him his address last Saturday, they hadn’t progressed to casually texting yet. Harry wonders excitedly if they’re about to reach that milestone.

_Did you and Liam really make lunch plans so that you wouldn’t feel left out? You could have just joined us at the restaurant!_

Louis’ reply comes a minute or so later.

_Liam was right when he said it’s hard for me to leave during the school day. He compromised and came to me._

Harry refrains from typing something ridiculous like, “I will trek across town every day to have lunch with you.” Instead, he comes up with a slightly more dignified reply.

_I’ll have to invite Liam to lunch next then if he’s so flexible._

Harry taps his foot as he waits for the reply, trying and failing to pay attention to the telly instead of staring at his phone.

When Louis’ reply comes, it’s a string of sad faced emojis.

_Glad you haven’t picked a favourite yet._

Harry laughs to himself, able to hear Louis’ sarcastic tone in the message. A bit of banter. He can do this.

_You and I had lunch together on Saturday. And if you come again this weekend, that’ll be two while I still haven’t had a single one with Liam._

Louis’ reply doesn’t come for a bit, and one glance at the clock tells Harry he really should be getting ready for bed. He turns off the TV and makes his way into the bedroom, throwing his phone on the bed while he steps into the en suite.

When he emerges ten minutes later, he sees a message from Louis on his screen.

_Guess I’ll have to come to the park on Saturday then. Can’t have Niall or Liam thinking they’re the favourite._

Harry pauses, unsure of how to reply. He types out several messages only to delete them. He can’t tell if Louis is being flirty and he should flirt back, or if Louis just feels competitive with Liam and Niall. After several deep breaths, Harry types out his response and presses send.

 _Nah, you’ve got that one in the bag_.

He panics slightly when Louis doesn’t respond right away. That was definitely too flirty. He knows he crossed some kind of line and Louis will reply “whoa bro chill out” and then Harry will have to resign from the LHS so that he won’t see Louis again and die from embarrassment.

When Louis replies, Harry nearly cries with relief.

_I’d say you’ve got that one locked up as well. Night! See you Saturday x_

 

The seeds keep blowing away.

No matter how fast Harry works, digging into the earth and dropping the seeds into the ground, they blow away before he can cover them.

It’s the first weekend in April and any previous hints of spring have been, quite literally, blown away. The weather is unforgiving today – the wind harsh and biting, clouds grey and threatening. Even his favorite hoodie, big and cozy, does little to block out the wind as he kneels over his garden plot, trying to plant Olive’s amaryllis seeds before the rain hits.

Most of the volunteers are working inside the greenhouse today, hidden from the brutal weather. It looks like it could begin raining at any moment, and Harry wants the seeds planted before that happens.

He finally figures out a system, holding the seeds in the earth with one hand while burying them in the soil with the other, but he has to work quickly, the sachet dangling from his lips so that it doesn’t fly away.

He’s almost finished with the last row of seeds when he feels a warm weight jump onto his back, dangling from him precariously.

“Harry!” a young, high voice exclaims.

Harry immediately drops the seeds and dirt, hands flying to his shoulders to catch the little hands threatening to slip from his shoulders.

“Hello, Doris!” Harry helps lower her to the ground and she immediately runs around to give him a hug. His heart catches as he gives her a tiny squeeze. “Where’s your flower crown?” he asks, giving a playful tug at the yellow beanie covering her red curls. “I thought we were playing hide and seek today.”

“Mumma said I needed to wear my hat today,” Doris explains, scooping up a handful of dirt and letting it fall through her fingers. “It’s too cold.” She shivers dramatically to prove her point.

Harry chuckles under his breath, picking up the seeds he dropped. “Would you like to help me plant the seeds?” he asks Doris.

Her eyes go wide and she nods enthusiastically.

“Hold out your hands,” Harry instructs.

She complies eagerly, hands still covered in dirt. Harry places the seeds in her hands and points towards the final hole in the ground. “Place them in there.”

Doris follows his instructions just as Harry hears footsteps behind him. He turns just in time to see Louis approach, Ernest’s hand in his. Like Doris, Ernest is dressed in a thick coat, a green beanie pulled over his blonde curls. Louis, on the other hand, looks more dressed for a hot day in July than a freezing day in April. He’s wearing a tank top, sleeves cut to reveal his toned biceps and a hint of his chest and stomach.

Harry smiles at them and is about to greet them when Doris exclaims, “Louis, look! I’m planting seeds!”

Louis’ eyes dart to Doris and he grins brightly at her. “Is that so, Dotty?”

“I want to plant seeds!” Ernest protests, stamping his foot.

“We’d love for you to help,” Harry cuts in, quickly snatching a seed or two from the ground and offering them to Ernest.

He grins excitedly, dropping Louis’ hand and racing to Doris’ side, holding out his hands. Harry helps him place the seeds in the ground, and then the three of them fill the hole with dirt, patting the ground so that it’s covered well.

“Well done!” Louis praises, offering his hand out for a high five to both the kids. They slap his hand excitedly, and then Louis turns towards Harry, hand poised in the air. Louis’ eyes twinkle with mirth as Harry returns the high five with a vigorous clap.

“What flowers are you planting?” Louis asks as Harry stands up, brushing the dirt off his knees while the twins continue to play.

“Amaryllises,” Harry picks the packet off the ground to show the picture of the pink flowers. The twins ooh excitedly at the photo. “Your nan actually gave me the seeds. She thought they would make a pretty addition to my plot.”

Louis glances down at the flower plot, bare of any buds. “Should definitely add some color,” Louis teases. “Right now everything is a bit brown.”

Harry playfully swats Louis’ arm. “Excuse me, but gardening takes time and patience. I’ll have you know that while my plot may seem brown and lifeless right now, underneath it’s bursting with life and color.”

Louis chuckles. “I guess I’ll have to take your word for it. What else are you growing?”

“I planted some daffodil bulbs a couple of weeks back,” Harry explains. “Those should start sprouting any day now. I think the yellow and pink flowers will look really lovely together.”

Louis nods. “And what about in the greenhouse? Do you have anything growing in there?”

“Would you like me to show you?” Harry offers as a gust of wind shakes through them. He watches Louis visibly shiver, arms prickling with goosebumps. “It’ll be a bit warmer in there.”

“Okay,” Louis agrees easily before moving towards the twins. “Go find Nan,” he tells them, pointing towards the edge of the garden where Olive is working. “Give her a big hug.”

The twins scamper off and Harry watches fondly as they wrap their tiny bodies around Olive, giving her a big hug.

Harry chuckles before gesturing for Louis to follow him towards the greenhouse. They fall in sync with one another, arms brushing.

When the wind blows again and Harry can practically feel Louis shake, Harry asks, “Aren’t you freezing, Lou? The twins are bundled up but you look like you’re ready for a day at the beach. Did you forget this is England?” he teases.

“Oi, don’t mock my fashion choices,” Louis returns, bumping his shoulder into Harry’s.

“I’m not saying anything against your fashion choices,” Harry replies. In fact, Harry would probably be the first person to bemoan Louis covering up his beautiful arms, but he also doesn’t want Louis to catch a cold. “I think I have an extra jacket in my car if you want me to grab it.”

“I’m fine, don’t worry,” Louis replies as they step into the greenhouse. “See, it’s nice and cozy in here.”

He’s not wrong. The heavy, bright overhead lamps keep the greenhouse at a warm, comfortable temperature. Some of the volunteers are chatting in the corner, and Harry gives them a wave as he leads Louis towards the plants he’s been growing.

“I’ve been growing some spices,” Harry explains as he gestures towards the different pots. “Basil, parsley, mint. I snip a bit every week to take home to cook with.”

The basil leaves are drooping, so Harry reaches for a stick to prop them up with. Resting against the thin stick, the stalk stands proudly, leaves vivid green.

“Love some basil,” Louis comments, peering at the leaves. “My mum makes the best tomato and basil soup, and she always uses fresh ingredients from the garden.”

“Is your mum a gardener too?” Harry asks.

“Yep. Nan taught her everything she knows, and then Mum tried to pass it onto me.” He chuckles, fixing his fringe as he stands up straight. “When I accidentally killed all her plants one summer, she decided that Lottie was better equipped for gardening than I was.”

Harry chuckles. He remembers Louis telling him all about his siblings at lads’ night, his expression fond as he talked about each one – love evident in his voice even as he complained about their idiosyncrasies.

“You managed to kill all her plants?” Harry teases. “That’s pretty impressive.”

Louis laughs, leaning his hip against the table. “I’m nothing if not dedicated. And I’m sure forgetting to water everything for an entire week contributed to their demise.”

“Probably.”

“And that’s how we learned I was better suited for playing football while Mum gardened.” He pauses for a moment. “That was cute of you to let Doris and Ernest plant the seeds. I could tell they loved it.”

Harry blushes, tucking a stray strand of hair behind his ear. “It was nothing. It was nice to see them so excited. And gardening is really fun. I learned at about their age, so it’s never too early.”

“How did you get into gardening, then?” Louis asks.

“Both my parents taught me, actually,” Harry explains. “They met at the gardening society at their uni, so it was always a shared passion between them.”

“That’s so sweet,” Louis coos.

Harry nods, smiling at the memories of warm summers with his family, fresh soil and bright flowers. “Me and Gemma both loved working in the garden with them. Mum would tell us stories about how Dad would woo her with different types of flowers that had special meanings. A daisy for loyalty. A gardenia for when he was falling for her. A red carnation when he was in love. A tulip for when he wanted to marry her.”

“That’s lovely,” Louis murmurs. “That’s such a special way to tell someone how you feel about them.”

“I always thought it was so romantic,” Harry agrees. “Everyone thinks roses are the most romantic flower, and they do symbolize love, but there are so many others that have deep meanings as well. Like the tulip – that was the one he gave her when he proposed because it symbolizes perfect love. Eternal love. We’d always plant tulips in our garden each summer because of it.”

“That’s a really nice memory,” Louis says. “Are tulips your favorite to grow?”

Harry considers for a moment. “I haven’t grown any in years, if I’m honest.” He chuckles dryly. “After my parents split, that ruined a bit of the magic for me. But I’d like to redeem them. Maybe grow some again one summer. They were always my favorite as a kid.

“When I was living at home last summer, my mum and I spent a lot of our days in the garden. I hadn’t realized how much I’d missed spending time with my mum while I was away at uni, so that was just really great. It was nice that no matter what has happened in my life or with her and my dad, we still have that.”

“Yeah, I know what you mean,” Louis adds. “Me and my mum are the same. Since I was her only baby for so many years, we really do have such a close bond. And it never mattered if there were new babies or new husbands, we still had this special relationship. Just the two of us.”

“That’s nice that you’re so close despite having so many siblings. I always felt like me and Gemma were fighting for our mum’s attention. I can’t imagine how it would be with six other siblings.”

Louis smirks. “I definitely learned how to be the loudest. And since I’m the oldest, I automatically defaulted to deserving the most attention.”

Harry chuckles. “I’m the youngest so I had the opposite logic. Gemma’s older and can fend for herself, but me, I needed all the attention.”

“I bet you were a cheeky little charmer,” Louis teases. “Able to talk your way into or out of anything.”

Harry shrugs, dimple popping as he grins. “I guess some things never change.”

Louis throws his head back and laughs, eyes sparkling and crinkling in amusement. Harry smiles proudly, pleased to have proven he still has his childlike charm.

Across the greenhouse, Susan and Jane watch Harry and Louis with raised eyebrows. Harry’s back is to them, and though Louis faces them, he never once looks away from Harry. They watch as Louis’ expression softens, turning momentarily serious and empathetic towards whatever Harry tells him. But then Louis begins smiling, and when he throws his head back in laughter, Susan and Jane can hear it across the greenhouse.

“Those two boys are something else,” Jane thrusts her arms out towards them. “Just look at them! Clearly a match made in heaven but neither one of them will make a move.”

Susan shakes her head, watching as Louis makes Harry laugh, their arms nudging together playfully. “I wonder why Harry’s so reluctant to ask him out. Anyone with eyes could see they’re taken with each other.”

Jane chuckles. “Maybe he doesn’t know that Louis only came to the park once every three months or so before Harry showed up. What’s this now – the third or fourth week in a row he’s been here? That’s never happened before!”

“I certainly don’t mind. He always brings those sweet babies with him, and they’re just so cute my heart could melt.” Susan pauses, studying Harry and Louis for a moment. Harry gestures wildly towards some of the plants, but Louis isn’t looking towards where Harry’s pointing. Instead, his eyes stay glued to Harry’s face, expression soft with fondness. “And he’s such a handsome lad. Both of them are. I’m surprised they’re not shagging on the floor of the greenhouse.”

“Oh, Susan, you’re terrible,” Jane chides, giggling. Her eyebrows climb to new heights when she watches Louis lean into Harry’s side as Harry shows him something with the potted plants. “Maybe it’s not that farfetched,” she considers, “if they thought they were alone.”

“What do you mean?”

Jane looks around the greenhouse, tapping her chin in consideration. Her eyes land on something near the door, and she perks up. When she turns back to Susan, she has a mischievous glint in her eyes. “How do you feel about playing matchmaker?”

Harry finishes telling Louis about the time he buried his sister’s favorite toy in the back garden and refused to tell her where he put it just as Susan and Jane walk up to them.

“Hello boys!” Susan greets cheerfully. “How goes the gardening today?”

“Really well,” Harry replies brightly. “I was showing Louis the different spices I’m growing. He thought he could even try his hand at watering them, but I don’t know if he’s ready for that yet.”

“Hey,” Louis protests, digging his elbow into Harry’s side so that an uncontrollable squawk escapes his lips. “I’ll have you know that I am perfectly capable of watering something, thank you very much.”

“Says the man who killed all his mum’s flowers because he forgot to water them for a week.”

“Oi! I’ll have you know I learn from my mistakes!”

Susan and Jane exchange an unreadable look, but Harry is too busy laughing to notice.

“Harry, love,” Jane cuts in. “We were just finishing up for the day, and we were wondering if you could take some of the tools to the shed.”

“No problem,” Harry replies easily. “I just needed to water my plot, but then I was finished for the day.”

“Oh good,” Susan adds. “Would you mind doing a quick inventory of the seeds in the shed then? There’s a little list by the door and we’re supposed to check it every six months but we forget sometimes.”

“Um, sure, no problem.” Harry scratches his neck, body halfway turned between Louis and Jane and Susan. He feels slightly embarrassed, as if he’s been called out like a class troublemaker who hasn’t been doing their work. Apparently it hasn’t gone unnoticed that he’s been neglecting a bit of his work to hang out with Louis, but he didn’t actually think it was a problem.

Jane cuts through his doubts when she suggests brightly, “You can take Louis with you!”

“Yeah!” Susan joins in. “Work always goes by quicker when you have someone to help you.”

Harry’s about to open his mouth to protest, but Louis cuts him off. “Sure, I don’t mind.”

“Louis, you don’t have to.” Harry’s mind screams to take back those words. He wants nothing more than for Louis to join him. “You didn’t come to the park to do inventory.”

Louis smiles up at him, expression genuine. “I really don’t mind. I’m an honorary member of LHS after all, aren’t I?” He winks at Jane and Susan, making them giggle.

“Yes you are!” Susan laughs as they walk towards the greenhouse door. Harry picks up the box of tools on the ground, hoisting them onto his hip. “Will you boys be joining us at the pub?”

“I plan to,” Harry says, unable to keep the hope out of his voice as he looks at Louis.

Louis’ looking back at him, a smile playing on his lips. “Me too.” He smirks. “Nan wouldn’t like it if I left with Doris and Ernest already.”

“Perfect!” Jane exclaims. “Well, you boys don’t rush. Don’t worry if it takes a bit of time to finish your work in the shed. We’ll see you at the pub whenever you can get there!”

“Okay,” Harry replies, oblivious to Jane’s and Susan’s loaded stares.

All thoughts rush out of his head as soon as he steps outside, the wind immediately hitting him.

“Fuck,” Louis swears, rubbing at his bare arms. “Got too warm in the greenhouse. Forgot how cold it was out here.”

“Me too,” Harry shivers as they hurry towards the shed.

The shed is fairly small, shelves on the wall and boxes full of tools lining the floor. It’s crowded with the supplies, everything any gardener could ever need packed into the small space. The shelves overflow with spades, hand trowels, gardening hoes, and gloves. Packets of seeds are stuffed into boxes, the names and pictures of various flowers and vegetables visible through the boxes’ open flaps. A lawnmower is stuffed in a corner, a wheelbarrow hanging from hooks on the ceiling.

Harry feels his throat close up a bit, the dark, cramped space making him uncomfortable. Despite the cold weather, he feels a bit of sweat at the base of his neck. He takes a deep breath, knowing that the quicker he works, the quicker they can leave the small shed.

Harry sets the tools on top of another box, knowing they’ll be easily found by any volunteers that need them.

“Where’s the light switch?” Louis asks as he closes the doors. “It’s too dark in here.”

“Wait!” Harry exclaims, holding out a hand to stop the door. Louis gives him a confused look, but stops. “You’ll have to leave it open,” Harry explains, swallowing noisily. “The door’s a bit faulty anyways, but there isn’t a light. Gotta use natural light.”

Louis snorts, gesturing towards the grey sky. “Since that’s in such abundance today.”

Harry chuckles, grabbing the clipboard off the wall. Louis props the door open and joins Harry’s side, their eyes trailing down the long list of inventory.

“Stuck you with the fun job, didn’t they?” Louis teases.

“Stuck us both with it,” Harry corrects. “They must be taking advantage of us because we’re the youngest.”

“Well, we might as well show them and take the best inventory they’ve ever seen!” Louis turns towards the shelves, eyeing the boxes marked _Seeds_. “Shit,” Louis breathes when he sees that there are at least five boxes that need to be taken stock of. “Why’d they give this to you at the end of the day? This’ll take hours.”

Louis isn’t complaining, simply stating fact. Harry’s brows furrow as he lifts one of the boxes, examining the contents. And Louis is right – even between the two of them, there’s no way they could finish the job in any less than a couple of hours.

“Hm,” Harry considers, placing the box on the ground. He checks his watch and sees that it’s 11:30. He usually works until noon, so they should have enough time to get a bit of work done. “Let’s try at least one box and see how long that takes. I doubt this is an urgent task, so I can finish it up over the coming weeks.”

“Sounds good to me,” Louis agrees easily, plopping down on the floor. Right as he does so, the wind howls loudly and the door slams shut, throwing the room into darkness.

Louis laughs, and Harry can hear him climbing to his feet. Even in the darkness, Harry keeps his eyes shut, his grip tight on the clipboard. He concentrates on taking a deep breath until Louis opens the door again, flooding the small space with light.

“There we go!” Louis announces happily, and Harry opens his eyes. “Damn wind must have blown it shut,” Louis chuckles. He pushes the door open more firmly. “Hopefully that will do it.”

Harry nods, hoping the slight wobble in his legs isn’t noticeable as he sits down. He and Louis begin digging through the box, marking each packet on the list. While they work, Louis tells Harry stories from his week. He’s just in the middle of describing how one of his third years seems to be a piano prodigy when the rough wind knocks the door closed again.

“Bloody thing,” Louis chuckles. Plunged into the suffocating darkness, Harry concentrates on taking deep breaths, holding tightly to the edge of the box.

It happens about three more times as they work – the door slams closed, Louis reopens it, and Harry takes deep breaths. They’re nearing the bottom of the box, and even though Harry is really beginning to feel nauseous, he just wants to hurry up and finish. Thankfully, Louis stays oblivious to Harry’s discomfort, yammering away and unaware of the mild panic latent in Harry’s chest. He just focuses on Louis’ voice, his soft, high lilt as he tells story after story.

They’re just about finished when the door slams shut one final time.

“For fuck’s sake!” Louis laughs, clambering to his feet. Harry takes deep breaths, waiting for the shed to be flooded with light again, but even when he hears Louis jiggling the door, they stay in darkness.

“Um, Harry?” Louis says after a moment, amusement in his voice. “The door seems to be jammed.”

The pressure in Harry’s chest, so far only an undercurrent, now floods forward – his head swims and his breathing becomes choppy. He listens as Louis pushes forcefully at the door, swearing softly as the door stays firmly closed.

Harry squeezes his eyes shut, self-imposing the darkness. He tries to take even breaths, but he feels his body shaking, his forehead damp with sweat.

Suddenly, a sharp light shines through and Harry blinks his eyes open.

Louis has turned on the light on his phone, filling the room with artificial light. “That’s better!” Louis chirps, but then his eyes fall to Harry and his expression changes from amused to concern. “Harry, are you alright?”

Harry lets out a shuddery breath, trying to find words. His throat is dry, but his eyes are thick with tears. He can’t breathe. God, he can’t breathe…

“Hey, Harry, it’s alright,” Louis is suddenly right by Harry’s side, rubbing a hand up and down his arm, trying to soothe him. “Breathe with me. Take a deep breath, come on, love.”

Louis breathes in loudly, and Harry does his best to copy it, but as more tremors shake his body, he still can’t breathe.

“Breathe, Harry. It’s okay, love. You’re okay. You’re safe.” Louis continues a mantra of soft reassurances, and Harry keeps his eyes’ firmly locked on Louis’. He does his best to copy Louis’ breathing, uncaring as his tears escape from his lashes, falling thickly down his cheeks.

When his breathing has returned to a somewhat normal pattern, Louis picks up his phone, taps the screen several times, and then holds it to his ear.

Harry watches Louis’ face, the hand on his shoulder anchoring him in the present moment.

“Nan,” Louis says hurriedly in the phone. “Me and Harry are locked in the shed. Can you come let us out?” He listens for a moment. “Thanks. Be quick.”

He places his phone on the ground, lacing his fingers with Harry’s and giving a squeeze. “You’re alright,” Louis reassures him. Harry leans his weight into Louis’ side, tears beginning to dry even as his breath stutters out of him.

The noise outside the shed is a relief, but the light that floods the room soon after is a godsend.

“Come on, love,” Louis says, helping Harry stand up. He keeps a tight hold of Harry’s hand, leading him out of the shed and into the open space.

Immediately, fresh air fills Harry’s lungs. The sun filters weakly through the clouds, the wind whipping his hair. Harry breathes.

“There you go,” Louis says, helping Harry sit down in a clear patch of grass. “Nan, can you fetch some water? And some granola bars from the twins’ bag?”

Harry doesn’t hear the response; instead, he leans his weight entirely on Louis as they sit in the grass. Despite the height difference, he leans his head on Louis’ shoulder, able to feel his deep, even breathing and does his best to match it.

Slowly, Harry’s head begins to clear, the pressure in his chest lessens, and his breathing returns to normal.

“Here, drink some water,” Louis says.

Harry sits up, taking the water bottle Louis offers him. He drinks nearly half the bottle, trying to soothe his dry throat. Louis also holds out a granola bar for him, which he takes and chews slowly. When he finishes, he blinks around him lazily and realizes with a start that they’ve attracted a small crowd. It seems all the LHS volunteers have abandoned their work and are now standing in front of Harry.

“Are you alright, Harry?” Olive asks, bending down to place a hand on Harry’s forehead. “You gave us a bit of a fright.”

A mixture of guilt and embarrassment washes over Harry, and suddenly he no longer wants to be in the park with curious eyes pinned on him. He wants to be buried under a pile of blankets on his bed, unseen and undisturbed.

“I –” he stutters. “I have a bit of claustrophobia. It doesn’t happen all the time, but I experience panic attacks sometimes when I’m in cramped spaces.”

He shivers slightly and Louis gives his fingers a squeeze.

Harry’s cheeks flood with warmth as he becomes aware of what just happened. Yes, he just had a panic attack, but he just had a panic attack in front of _the man he likes._ Harry goes red with embarrassment, his previous wish to be alone only heightening.

“I think I’m fine now,” Harry attempts. “I’d just like to go home –”

“Are you sure?” Louis cuts in, concern heavy in his voice. “You should come to the pub. Have some food.”

“No, I – I just really want to be alone right now,” Harry explains weakly.

Harry sees some of the volunteers exchange guilty looks, quickly wishing Harry the best before scattering. He doesn’t notice the embarrassed look Susan and Jane exchange, quickly rushing after everyone else.

He’s left alone with Louis and Olive, and he can feel the concern radiating off of them.

“Let me drive you home,” Louis gives Harry’s fingers another gentle squeeze.

“That’s okay,” Harry quickly declines, too embarrassed to be in Louis’ presence any longer than he has to be. He disentangles his fingers from Louis, quickly trying to stand up. Louis is immediately there, placing a helpful hand on Harry’s back as he stands. “I really am fine. I just want to go home and take a nap. Panic attacks are always draining.” His joke is weak at best, so it’s unsurprising that it falls flat.

Louis looks at him with a frown etched on his face. “Are you sure you’re okay to drive?”

“Yes, I’m fine,” Harry replies, feeling desperation building. He just wants to leave. “I’ve had them before, so I know how to deal with them. I’ll be good as new when I go home and get some sleep.”

Louis doesn’t look pleased, but he seems to decide not to press. Harry is grateful. “Can you text me when you get home?” Louis asks in a low voice, placing a hand on Harry’s wrist. “Please?”

And as embarrassed as he is, Harry can’t say no to that. He nods. “I will.”

He quickly steps away from Louis, his wrist feeling cold as Louis’ hand falls away. “Um, thanks for helping me,” he says awkwardly, looking from Louis to Olive. He begins to walk backwards, heading towards his car.

“Text me when you get home,” Louis calls out one last time as Harry turns his back and all but sprints to his car.

He drives away without looking back, too afraid to see the worried concern in Louis’ eyes.


	2. Chapter 2

Harry comes awake groggily, body confused at the light filtering through the windows. He keeps his face firmly pressed into the pillows, unwilling to surface from the obliviousness of sleep, the peaceful reprieve.

But slowly, the events of the afternoon come back to him – the crushing panic in his chest, Louis’ soothing voice, the crippling embarrassment of having lost control in such a revealing way.

He groans, rolling over in bed to grab his phone off the bedside table. It’s just gone past three in the afternoon, so he estimates that he slept for about two hours. He sees that he has a bunch of messages and notifications, but chooses to ignore them, dropping his phone onto the duvet.

Harry had fought back tears the whole drive from the park. As soon as he’d arrived at his flat, he allowed himself to cry, calling his mum while he rehydrated and ate some fruit.

Anne reassured him, reminding him that panic attacks are nothing to be embarrassed over. He knows all of this, but it had just been so many years since he’d had one. He had forgotten how powerful and overwhelming they can be, even a minor one.

She told him that since he’s been experiencing so much stress recently, especially with the move and with work, that it had probably only been a matter of time, and being trapped in such a small space had been the trigger on an already loaded gun.

His mother’s words comforted him and he fell asleep feeling much better.

After lying in bed for a moment longer, Harry decides to check his messages. He has a couple from his mum, sending him love and reassurances and asking him to call when he wakes up. He has some texts from the LHS volunteers, checking in on him.

But then he sees what he was really curious about – Louis’ messages.

Harry had texted Louis when he arrived home, but hadn’t looked to see if he’d responded. As Harry checks his phone now, he sees Louis had responded and then sent several other messages:

_Glad you made it home safely. Feel better xx_

_Hope you’re feeling better! Sleep always works miracles for me! x_

_Can you let me know how you’re feeling when you have a chance?_

_Do you still want to come to lads’ night? If you don’t, we definitely understand xx_

Harry’s heart clenches. Louis’ concern is genuine and undeniably thoughtful, but Harry just isn’t sure he can face him again so soon after his panic attack. And seeing Niall and Liam as well – that just feels like too much after such a draining day.

_Feeling much better after some food and a nap thanks! I won’t be able to make it to lads’ night since I think I need a night to rest. We can catch up again soon! xx_

Harry sends off the text and then climbs out of bed. After using the restroom, he decides to clean up around his flat, putting on some music while he does the washing up.

He checks his phone after he’s finished cleaning and finds two messages from Louis, one sent immediately after the other.

_I’m glad you’re feeling better, but we’ll miss you tonight! xx_

_Could I maybe come by tomorrow if you’re feeling up to it? I can bring some of my nan’s homemade chocolate chip cookies! They’re legendary xx_

Harry stares blankly at the second text, heart pounding in his chest. He can almost hear Louis’ earnest, pleading tone in his text – his desire to check up on Harry and spend time with him but not wanting to intrude. Harry blushes, hopelessly endeared.

He’s powerless when he sends back his reply:

_That would be lovely – with or without the cookies xx_

 

Louis shows up Sunday afternoon, cookies in tow.

The second Harry opens the door, Louis wraps himself around Harry. He presses his face into Harry’s chest, arms wound in a vice grip around Harry’s waist.

Dumbstruck, it takes Harry a moment to react, wrapping his arms around Louis and tugging him closer. He buries face in Louis’ hair, the soft strands tickling his cheek. They hold each other for a moment, a beat longer than what would probably be considered normal, but Harry can’t bring himself to let go.

“Glad you’re feeling better.” Louis’ voice is muffled by Harry’s shirt, but Harry doesn’t mind. He feels comforted, anchored in Louis’ arms.

When they reluctantly let go, Louis steps inside as Harry shuts the door behind him. Louis holds out the tin of cookies, a smile on his face. “My nan’s world famous cookies, as promised.”

“Didn’t know they were world famous,” Harry chuckles, taking them from Louis. He pops open the tin and is immediately hit by the wonderful smell of the freshly baked treats. He pulls one out and munches on it, Louis taking one as well.

Harry gives a quick tour of his flat – there’s not much to see, but it is Louis’ first time visiting. They end up settled on Harry’s sofa, leaning on opposite arm rests but their feet tangled in the middle. It’s intimate, but feels surprisingly natural.

“How are you feeling?” Louis asks around a bite of his second cookie. “If you want to talk about it, I mean.”

Harry swallows down his bite of cookie, chasing it with a sip of milk. “Um,” he clears his throat. “Yeah, I don’t mind talking about it. It’s just embarrassing, is all.”

“It’s not embarrassing,” Louis protests, voice shockingly firm. When Harry raises his eyebrows, Louis elaborates. “My sister Lottie has severe anxiety and experiences panic attacks pretty regularly. They’re horrible when they happen, and it’s only worse if you’re worried about what other people are thinking during it. You have to take care of yourself. That’s the most important.”

Harry nods. “Well, that explains why you knew what to do.”

“That’s what seemed to be happening,” Louis shrugs. “And I know Lottie always says that it helps if she has someone who’s there for her. To remind her to breathe and to give her, I don’t know, a bit of grounding. So that’s what I tried to do.” He wrings his hands nervously for a moment. “I hope I didn’t overstep.”

“No, no, you didn’t,” Harry is quick to reassure. “That was exactly what I needed, so thank you.”

Louis’ relief is evident, tension leaving his shoulders so that he sags against the couch. “Thanks. I just –” he gives Harry a confused look. “Why didn’t you say you were claustrophobic? We shouldn’t have gone in that bloody shed at all if you were.”

“I haven’t reacted like that in years,” Harry admits, playing with the hem of his shirt to avoid looking at Louis. “I called my mum and she said it was probably just all the stress piled up and that going into a small space just caused everything to erupt. I didn’t think it would get so bad, so I just tried to focus on the work so that we could leave soon after.”

“That makes sense.” Harry looks up at Louis who is nodding in understanding. “I was just worried about you.” His eyes are wide and earnest, his tone vulnerable. “I always feel so helpless in situations like that, and I just wanted you to be okay again.”

Harry smiles at him, amazed at the man sitting across from him. “You helped so much. Honest. I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t been there.”

When Louis smiles, his eyes crinkle and Harry’s breath catches in the most pleasing way. “Anytime.”

They talk about other things after that, both relieved that their friendship seems to have only strengthened by the previous day’s events.

Harry asks about lads’ night and Louis says he didn’t miss much. They’d ended up having a FIFA tournament and Niall had won every round. Harry laughs as Louis tells how he’d almost thrown his controller out the window when Niall had won his fourth match.

Louis tells Harry about the audition he has that week for a local production of _Sweeney Todd_.

“Isn’t that the one with the human pies?” Harry makes a disgusted face. “I thought musicals were supposed to be happy and about love.”

“So narrow minded,” Louis rolls his eyes and Harry huffs in playful indignation. “Yeah, it’s crazy dark, but the score is incredible.” He hums a bar to himself before twisting his face into a scary expression and singing, “The demon barber of Fleet Street.” He pokes Harry as he sings “Fleet Street” and Harry laughs, scrambling to get away.

“Please tell me you aren’t auditioning for the part of Demon Barber.”

“No,” Louis laughs, puffing his chest out like a proud peacock. “I’m auditioning for Anthony, the young, strapping male love interest.” Then he makes a face. “My love interest is named Johanna, which is really weird since that’s my mum’s name. Whenever I’ve practiced, I’ve felt like I’m singing a love song to my mum.”

Harry throws his head back and laughs, and Louis pushes him off the couch.

They find a _Top Gear_ marathon on TV, both expressing their love for it despite their lack of interest in cars. Hours pass as they watch Clarkson, Hammond, and May compete in ridiculous challenges, Harry and Louis laughing ridiculously at each antic.

Harry doesn’t even realize how late it’s getting until his stomach growls. Louis hears and chuckles, his stomach answering in harmony.

“Should we order some food?” Harry suggests. He pauses, chewing his lip. “Unless you need to head home?”

“Nah,” Louis shrugs. “I can do dinner. What are you feeling? I’d love some pizza.”

They decide to order in some pizza, arguing over the best toppings before deciding that they’re both hungry enough to order separate pizzas.

“Just as long as you don’t put pineapple on your pizza,” Louis gripes as Harry places the order. “Then I’d be forced to leave.”

Harry laughs, sneakily requesting that one slice of Louis’ meat lovers pizza be a Hawaiian slice. He slightly fears for his life, but he thinks Louis’ reaction will be worth it.

And even though it could potentially be Harry’s final moments, Louis’ reaction is definitely worth it. He lets out an inaudible scream at the sight of the unholy pineapple on his pizza. He immediately tears the slice from the rest of his pizza, ripping out the pineapple chunks and throwing them at Harry’s head. “How – dare – you – ruin – such – a – perfectly – good – pizza!” Each word is punctuated with a pineapple hurled at Harry’s face, but Harry can’t stop laughing long enough to care, sides aching as Louis’ voice gets higher and raspier.

Eventually Louis calms down and eats his pizza without throwing anything else at Harry’s head. Occasionally, he’ll mutter “pineapple” under his breath and shake his head, making Harry giggle.

Louis doesn’t head home until almost ten o’clock, and even though they spent practically the whole day together, Harry doesn’t want him to leave.

“Gotta do this more often,” Louis says as he shrugs on his jacket. Harry nods his adamant agreement and they hug before Louis heads home. “See you Saturday!” he calls, waving over his shoulder.

As he climbs into bed a short while later, his stomach is still filled with butterflies.

He checks his phone before going to bed to see he has a message from Anne checking in.

_How are you feeling today?_

Harry doesn’t have to think about it for long.

 _Perfect_.

He falls asleep with a smile on his face. It’s the best day he’s had in ages.

 

Harry is intentional about self-care the following week.

He calls his mum every night, takes ten minute breaks at work when he’s beginning to feel overwhelmed, and has a long, hot bath each evening. He sinks into the pink bubbles and listens to the soft piano music on his bath playlist, imagining dreamily that Louis is giving him a live performance.

Harry has lunch again with Niall on Wednesday. Over noodles, Niall expresses that he missed Harry at that week’s lads’ night, saying that Louis told them he wasn’t feeling well but didn’t say why. Harry is grateful and assures Niall that he is feeling better without going into details. He feels comforted knowing that Louis respected his privacy in regards to his panic attack.

On Thursday he has lunch with Liam at a sandwich shop near Harry’s office. Liam also says he missed Harry at lads’ night, and Harry promises to come on Saturday. Liam tells him about the music he’s been writing and asks about Harry’s work and his volunteering. Harry learns that Liam has two dogs, which makes him miss his cat Dusty back in Cheshire. Liam invites Harry over anytime to cuddle his dogs, and Harry thanks him, knowing he will very likely take him up on that offer.

Mercifully, his week is much less stressful than the week before, and as he pulls into Bramley Park that Saturday, the events of the previous week feel like nothing more than a distant memory.

Unlike last week, the day is warm, the sun peeking through the clouds and warming the earth. Harry is excited to see that his daffodils are beginning to sprout, the tiny green leaves poking through the soil. He works diligently over his plot, weeding and watering his budding flowers.

He’s nearly finished with his work when Louis arrives, Ernest and Doris in tow.

The kids scramble to Harry’s side, giving him a big hug while Louis watches on fondly.

“Honestly, they’re more excited to see you than they are to see Nan at this point,” Louis confides, aviators resting on the bridge of his nose. He’s wearing another tank top, and Harry can’t help but wonder if Louis owns any other clothing. He’s certainly not complaining – Louis’ arms look like they were carved by Michelangelo himself. If Louis does own any other tops, he may burn them so that Louis will have to wear nothing but tank tops for the rest of eternity.

“Well that makes three of us,” Harry ruffles both their hair fondly, eliciting indignant squawks from both the twins. “They’re the only reason I keep you around, so that I can hang out with my two new best friends.”

“Ha, did you hear that?” Doris demands to her big brother. “Harry likes us better!”

Louis’ face is one of pure shock, hand resting in offense on his chest. “Well, if you don’t need me, I’ll just be on my merry way then.”

He makes to leave, but the twins cry out their objections, racing from Harry’s side to grab onto Louis’ legs.

“Oh, now you like me,” Louis teases, giving them playful swats on the bum. “Go find your Nan and bother her.”

As the twins scurry away, Louis plops down on the grass next to Harry, placing his palms behind him and leaning back. “They’re right menaces.”

Harry chuckles, taking off his gardening gloves, depositing them in the grass, and then mirroring Louis’ pose. He watches as the twins find Olive, dragging her towards the playground. The other volunteers work around them, the sun brightening up everyone.

“How was your week?” Louis asks. “You still feeling alright?”

“Yeah, feeling really good,” Harry nods. “Work wasn’t too stressful, and I made sure to take extra care of myself. Lots of rest, lots of baths.”

“I’ve never met a grown man who takes as many baths as you do.” Harry can tell that behind his aviators, Louis is rolling his eyes.

“They’re relaxing,” Harry protests. “Who doesn’t love a good bath bomb?”

Louis laughs, holding up a palm in surrender before quickly placing it back on the ground to balance himself. “Whatever you say.”

Harry chuckles. “How was your week? How was the audition?”

Louis perks up at that, the smile on his face rivaling the April sun. “I got a call back! I think they have it down between me and four other blokes, so I’m hopeful.”

“I’m sure you’ll get it,” Harry predicts confidently. “When’s the call back?”

“Tuesday evening.” Louis plucks a piece of grass from the ground, twisting it around his finger. “I’ve been practicing so much I’m surprised I haven’t had noise complaints from the neighbors.”

“Well, if you need someone to practice with, I’m sure I’d be an excellent Johanna.”

Louis looks up at him, and Harry can practically see his eyes crinkling. “Are you sure about that?”

“I’m an excellent singer!” Harry defends himself. “I can watch the Johnny Depp version this weekend in preparation.”

Louis smiles at him for a beat. “Don’t watch the Johnny Depp version. They cut out so many of the best songs. There’s an old stage version on YouTube that’s really good. You can come over and watch it, if you want?”

“Yeah, that sounds nice.” Harry smiles back at Louis.

“And the stage version is a lot less gory,” Louis adds. “There’s too much blood and gore in the film, if you ask me. Takes away from the elegance of the story, I think.”

“The elegance?” Harry teases. “Of killing humans and then baking them into pies?”

“No,” Louis protests on a laugh. “The elegance of the music and the story. About the futility of revenge and all that. You can’t focus on that if you’re too busy being grossed out by the blood.”

“Let’s watch the stage version then,” Harry agrees.

“We’ll have to continue our _Top Gear_ marathon at some point though,” Louis points out. “After watching so many episodes in one day, I’m having withdrawals.”

“I don’t think that’s possible, but okay.” As if Harry could say no to Louis.

“Perfect, we’ll have to do that next weekend though since it feels impossible to do anything on the week nights.” Louis rolls his eyes. “Feel like I’m a kid again when I can’t hang out because it’s a school night.”

Harry chuckles and then remembers he actually will have to say no to Louis. “That sounds nice, but it’ll have to be another time.” Louis quirks a brow. “I told my mum I’d come visit next weekend. I’m going to drive up Friday night and stay until Sunday.”

“That sounds nice,” Louis replies, but Harry wonders if he can hear a thread of disappointment in his tone. “Any occasion?”

Harry shrugs. “Just going to visit.” He averts his eyes, unwilling to admit he’s a bit homesick. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen everyone.”

Louis nods. “I know what you mean. If I go a week or two without seeing my mum, it feels like a lifetime. I end up camping out in the spare room until she forces me to leave.”

“Yeah,” Harry agrees. “And I feel it more so now that I’ve moved. Even when I was in Manchester, home was just a lot closer. It felt so much easier to pop down for an evening. Now I feel like I have to do a whole weekend trip.”

“When you don’t get to see them that often, it makes sense you’d want to spend as much time with them as you can,” Louis says understandingly. “They’re obviously really special to you. Will Gemma be in town?”

“Yeah,” Harry can’t help the excitement in his voice. His sister works in Preston as a science teacher, but she’s decided to stay for the weekend at their parents’ house too. “She’s coming down and it’s going to be so great. I’m sure we’ll be at each other’s throats by Sunday, but it’ll still be good.” He huffs a laugh. “You know it’s bad when you miss fighting with your siblings.”

Louis is quiet for a moment, fingers running idly through the grass. “Are you feeling more settled in Leeds at all? I know when we met you said it wasn’t feeling very much like home.”

Harry wrinkles his brow, thinking about his response. He misses his family, but he missed them when he was in Manchester for uni as well. Even if they were slightly closer than to where he is now, he still would miss them. And the past few weeks in Leeds have really felt different to him. He’s been going out with Louis and his friends, balancing his work life with a much more active and fulfilling social life. Leeds still doesn’t feel quite like home, but maybe that’s not to be expected yet. He’s only been here for barely four months.

“I think I’m getting there,” Harry eventually replies. “It still feels a bit foreign to me, but I think that’ll change with time, you know? The longer you’re in a place, the more familiar you become with it. But I think I’m happier. I feel a lot more balanced than I did a couple of months ago. Volunteering with the LHS and hanging out with you and your friends has really helped with that.”

Louis’ smile is breathtaking – relieved and overjoyed. Harry’s breath catches.

“I’m really glad to hear that, Harry. Honestly. I know I haven’t known you for very long, but I really enjoy spending time with you.” He laughs quietly. “Think I’d be a bit heartbroken if you went back to Manchester for good.”

And Harry – Harry just doesn’t know what to say to that. Surely Louis doesn’t mean what he thinks he means by that. Surely he means he’d be heartbroken in a friendly way, and not because he may have feeling for Harry like Harry has feelings for him.

A surge of courage rushes through Harry and he moves his hand along the grass, resting his palm on top of Louis’. Louis looks down at their hands and when he looks back at Harry, Harry can practically see the hope in his eyes.

“I would be too,” Harry replies quietly, his lips curving to a gentle smile.

Louis’ hand moves under Harry’s, and for a moment Harry thinks he misread the signals and starts to take his hand away. But then he feels Louis’ palm turning, pressing against Harry’s and tangling their fingers together.

Harry’s heart stutters in his chest, cheeks warming.

“This okay?” Louis asks in a quiet voice.

Harry nods adamantly, hardly trusting his voice. “Yeah,” he practically squeaks, voice only slightly rough. “Really okay.”

Across the park, Susan, Jane, and Michael watch Harry and Louis with raised eyebrows. Their bodies are inclined towards one another, both resting on their palms. They smile brightly at each other, the picture of ease.

“They just look so happy together,” Jane sighs. “Honestly – what’s stopping them from being together?”

Michael quirks a brow at Jane. “It could be any number of reasons. They may just not be interested.”

Jane scrunches her face in disbelief, gesturing wildly towards the two men. “How on earth could you look at them and say that? They’re clearly infatuated.”

“I’m glad they still seem comfortable around each other,” Susan remarks. “Poor Harry seemed so mortified last week.”

“Well that’s what you get for locking them in the damn shed, Jane,” Michael scolds. “Honestly, what were you thinking?”

“We didn’t lock them in the shed!” Jane protests. “How were we supposed to know the door would jam? And I had no idea Harry was claustrophobic! I never would have suggested it if I’d known!”

“Well, I think that was the beginning and end of our matchmaking days,” Susan says forlornly.

“Don’t be so quick to give up,” Jane cuts in slyly.

Susan gasps, turning towards Jane. “You don’t mean you’re actually going to play matchmaker again! Not after that went so horribly last week!”

Jane waves her hand in dismissal. “We won’t do anything so extreme. I was thinking – there’s a flower bed by the pond that often gets overlooked. We could ask them to go work down there.” She waggles her eyebrows at her two reluctant co-conspirators. “Think about it – it’s a romantic setting and they’ll be far away from everyone else. They’ll be by the water, surrounded by flowers. It couldn’t be more romantic!”

Susan sighs and Michael groans, but neither raises any protest.

Resting in the grass, Harry keeps his hand still, holding Louis’ in a soft but firm grip. He tries to relax, trying to breathe evenly so his heart doesn’t gallop out of his chest.

A sudden voice behind them makes Harry and Louis spring apart, startled.

“Hi boys!” Jane greets them, Susan and Michael trailing behind her. “How’s the gardening today?”

“Good.” Harry clears his throat, pressing his hand to his chest, still warm from Louis’ touch. “My daffodils have started to sprout.”

“Look at that!” Susan exclaims, pointing at the tiny buds. “Your babies are blooming!”

Harry blushes, pushing himself to his feet, Louis following.

“Well, if you’re finished here,” Jane says, “we were wondering if you boys would go check on the plot by the pond. It’s small, so we always forget about it. It probably just needs a bit of weeding, but if you wouldn’t mind, it would be a great help!”

“Sure,” Harry replies. “But I thought you wanted me to keep taking inventory of the seeds in the shed?”

Jane waves her hand in dismissal. “Oh, that doesn’t matter.”

Harry quirks a brow, wondering dryly what the point of his panic attack was then.

“The plot by the pond needs checking today,” Jane continues, “so if you could do that, it would be a great help.”

“Alright,” Harry agrees. “No problem.”

“Excellent!” Jane exclaims, clapping her hands together. “Have fun!”

Jane, Susan, and Michael walk off, and Louis chuckles under his breath. “They never give you a break, do they? Always sticking you with the work.”

Harry shrugs, walking away from the gardens and towards the pond. “I don’t mind. It’s not unusual for them to delegate tasks.” He just wishes they didn’t always delegate to him when he finally felt like he was getting somewhere with Louis. They had been _holding hands_ , for Christ’s sakes.

Harry’s only been down to the pond a handful of times, but it’s lovely now that spring has really arrived. The trees are thick and green, veiling the pond from the path. There’s a small garden plot near the edge of the bank, so Harry leads Louis towards it.

“I suppose so,” Louis replies. “But I wonder why they delegate the tasks when they don’t seem to be doing any work themselves.”

Harry barely registers Louis’ comment, stopping in shock at the edge of the plot. The tiny square is completely overgrown, the petunias and tulips completely covered in weeds.

“Yikes,” Louis says by his side. “I’m not even a gardener and I can tell that’s not good.”

Harry chuckles, leaning down by the flowers. Louis squats down next to him, surveying the damage.

“It’s not too bad,” Harry lifts some of the flowers, drooping as the weeds grow around them. “We need to remove the dead flowers and pull out the weeds. They should be alright if we do that.”

“Got it,” Louis agrees, rubbing his hands together. “Now, which ones are the weeds?”

Harry laughs, throwing his head back in amusement, but when he looks back at Louis, he’s met with a perplexed expression.

“Oh, you’re serious?” Harry asks.

Louis nods, plopping from his squatting position to a sitting one. “I’m all ears.”

Harry points out the different weeds to Louis, making sure he pulls those instead of any budding flowers. Harry forgot to bring an extra pair of work gloves, but Louis says he doesn’t need them. None of the weeds have spikes, so Harry doesn’t protest. They work for a bit, their arms filled with weeds as they trade stories from their weeks and laugh as their stories grow more and more ridiculous.

They pile the weeds next to them, growing bigger and bigger the longer they work.

They’re almost finished with the flower bed when Louis remarks, “These weeds are quite itchy. Is that why I should have worn work gloves?”

Harry glances up from his work, and his eyes immediately bug out. Louis’ arms have gone red and splotchy, covered in tiny bumps. Louis drags his right hand across his left arm, scratching at the irritated skin insistently.

“Um, Louis,” Harry replies tentatively, taking the pile of weeds from Louis’ left hand. “Are you allergic to anything?”

Louis furrows his brow, scratching idly at his arms. “No. At least, I don’t think so.”

“Well, you seem to be having some kind of reaction to the plants,” Harry says, trying to keep the panic out of his voice. It could be nothing – just a slight reaction. But Harry’s also heard horror stories about someone being exposed to the wrong plant and being on their death bed in hours. He’d rather that not happen to Louis.

Louis looks at his arms where his fingers are digging into the skin. He huffs a laugh. “I guess that makes sense.”

“We should go,” Harry scrambles to his feet. “Just in case it’s serious.”

“Alright,” Louis agrees. He scratches at his arms again and winces. “Is this not normal?”

“No,” Harry replies, walking quickly up the bank and towards the greenhouse. He gestures towards his own pale arms. “I didn’t react that way even when the weeds touched my skin.”

Louis frowns. “Okay. Maybe I’m allergic and I didn’t even know.”

“Must be,” Harry replies right as they near the other volunteers. Thankfully, the first person he sees is Olive.

“Hello, boys!” she greets cheerily until she sees how Louis is clawing at his arms. “Louis, love, what’s wrong?”

“Harry thinks I’m having an allergic reaction to the plants we were weeding,” Louis explains, a note of frustration in his voice as he continues to scratch relentlessly.

“I’d say you’re right,” Olive grabs Louis’ arm, checking it with a critical eye. “Does it hurt?”

“Yeah, I’m really itchy,” Louis pulls his arm back from her to scratch at it.

“Well being in the sun will only irritate it,” Olive replies, tugging him into the shade. “Where are your siblings? Come on, we need to go to the doctor’s.”

“Why?” Louis protests, sounding almost childish.

“We need to make sure this is just an allergic reaction and nothing else,” she looks around the garden until she spots Doris and Ernest playing in some flowers. “Doris! Ernest! Come here! We need to go!”

The twins run to them and Olive begins dragging Louis towards her car. Louis throws Harry a pleading look, and Harry rushes to his side.

“Do you want me to come?” Harry asks, worry heavy in his voice.

“No, that’s okay,” Louis replies. “Don’t want you to be stuck in the doctor’s office waiting for ages.”

Harry nods, keeping a quick step. He never would have expected a ninety-plus-year-old woman to walk so quickly. “Can you text me to let me know you’re alright?” Harry asks, an echo of Louis’ words last week. “I’ll worry if not.”

Louis offers him a small smile. “Yeah, I’ll text you.” He huffs a self-deprecating laugh. “Sorry about this.”

“Nothing to be sorry for,” Harry replies as they near the edge of the carpark. “Hope everything’s okay.”

“Will let you know,” Louis says before Olive practically shoves him into her car, strapping Doris and Ernest into their car seats quickly.

She turns to Harry, patting his cheek. She must see something in his eyes, because she adds gently, “He’ll be alright, love. I just want to get him to the doctor so he can get the right medicine.”

“Okay,” Harry nods. “I’ll see you soon.”

Olive climbs into the car, Louis giving a small wave before they drive away.

Harry watches until they disappear around the corner, shocked at how quickly their pleasant afternoon had turned into Louis breaking into hives.

When he turns around and walks back to the greenhouse, hands shoved in his pockets and head down, he doesn’t notice Susan smack Jane upside the back of the head.

 

Harry barely lets go of his phone for the rest of the day, jumping at every notification or message that pings through, but always groaning in disappointment when he sees they aren’t from Louis.

He goes to the pub after he finishes volunteering, but he’s so distracted that he can barely focus on the conversation around him. He tries to listen as the other volunteers discuss the Leeds Flower Show, but he can’t even muster excitement for the upcoming event, too worried about Louis. He hardly notices the worried glances Jane throws at him, gnawing at her lip in concern.

It’s not until that evening as Harry’s cooking dinner that his phone lights up with a message from Louis. Harry nearly chops off his finger in his hurry to put down his knife and pick up his phone.

_The doctor’s took ages. He gave me some meds that will help the hives go away. Apparently I’m allergic to some plants – who would’ve known ! Gotta cancel lads’ night tonight because I have strict instructions to rest. Otherwise I’m fine – just a bit itchy. Doctor said a nice bath would help – too bad I don’t have any of your fancy bath bombs !_

Relief washes over Harry, thankful that Louis is okay. He quickly types out a message.

_Glad to hear you’re alright! And the doctor was right – baths cure all things! If you want me to drop off some bath bombs, I’d be happy to xx_

He goes back to cutting his vegetables, but has to stop because his hands are shaking with nervous energy. His time with Louis today was cut short – just like it was last week – so the prospect of seeing him again is too tempting.

Louis’ message comes through just as he puts his dinner in the oven.

_Want to come by tomorrow? We can watch Sweeney Todd and I can use your fancy bath bombs xx_

Harry has to grip the worktop to keep upright.

He knows Louis isn’t implying they take a bath together – that Louis’ bath is for medicinal purposes and not for mutual bathing activities. As much as Harry may want it to be.

He waits five minutes and only sticks his head in the fridge for thirty seconds to calm down before replying.

_Sounds good! I have the perfect bath bomb that’s supposed to help with aches and pains. You’ll be well in no time xx_

Louis’ reply is almost instant, but in addition to his message, he’s also attached a picture.

Louis is curled up in bed, hoodie pulled over his head and blankets tucked up to his chin. He’s giving a small smile, lips quirked at the corners. He gives the camera a thumbs up, hand looking small from where it’s held next to his chest.

_Feeling better already ! See you tomorrow xx_

A strangled noise falls from Harry’s lips. He stares at the picture blankly for several minutes, feeling warm and flushed. Then, with a resigned whine, he abandons his dinner to fill up his own bathtub.

Twenty minutes later, he moans as he comes into the pink bathwater, hand flying over his pulsing cock as the image of Louis, soft and warm and pliant, teases at his brain.

 

The next day, Harry arrives at Louis’ doorstep with a bag of bath bombs and a Domino’s pizza.

When Louis opens the door, swallowed up in a massive hoodie and a worn pair of joggers, his face breaks into a grin.

“It’s like Christmas come early,” Louis takes the pizza from Harry to give him a hug before leading him into the flat.

“How are you feeling?” Harry asks, plopping down on Louis’ couch and toeing off his boots.

Louis sits on the other end of the couch, knees pulled up to his chest. “I’m alright, I guess.” Louis shrugs. He tears off a piece of pizza from the box, nibbling on the end. “The doctor prescribed something that’s supposed to help the itching, and I’ve been putting on aloe vera every couple of hours so that’s been helping. I just can’t think about it, or I start itching. It’s like a reflex or something.”

“Okay, so me asking about it only makes it worse?” Harry teases, taking a bite of his own pizza.

“Exactly,” Louis agrees, winking cheekily. “I called my mum and she said I had a hives outbreak when I was a kid, but I don’t have any memory of it.”

“Is it just a certain plant?” Harry wonders. “Surely it’s not all of nature since you’ve been at the park for the past few weeks and haven’t had any kind of reaction.”

“No, it’s not all of nature,” Louis rolls his eyes, his tone fond. “Nan went back to the park after she dropped me off at the doctor’s and checked what type of weeds we’d pulled. We’d just left them in a pile by the plot so she was able to find them easily.” Louis chuckles. “But yeah, it’s a certain type of weed that apparently only grows in damp environments, so that’s why it was down by the pond and not near the greenhouse. So as long as I don’t go digging through the plants by the pond, I should be fine.”

“Maybe we should revoke your honorary member status,” Harry teases. “Just to be safe.”

“Oi, none of that!” Louis chides, swatting at Harry. “I’m invested now. I want to watch everything bloom over the summer.”

Louis’ words remind him of the Leeds Flower Show since everything will be in bloom then. It’s still a month and a half away, but Harry wants Louis to be there.

“Speaking of which,” Harry segues, hoping it’s subtle, “has your nan mentioned the Leeds Flower Show?”

Louis quirks a brow. “No? I don’t think so.”

Harry swallows, butterflies fluttering in his tummy. “It’s this big event at the end of May when all the flowers are in bloom. It’s hosted at a different park in Leeds each year, and this year it’s at Bramley. Everyone’s family and friends are invited to a huge barbecue and they give out awards. It’s supposed to be really fun – I’m looking forward to it.”

“That does sound fun,” Louis replies. “You going to show off your flowers then?”

Harry nods, a smile tilting his lips upwards. “They should be in bloom then, and I’m hoping they’ll be considered for an award.” His brow furrows. “Although I don’t know what kind of awards they’ll have. Maybe I can win the award for ‘flowers everyone thought were going to die, but actually survived.’”

Louis cackles, nudging Harry’s leg with his foot. “That’s probably the longest award title ever,” he teases, making Harry giggle. “But you’re an excellent gardener. You’ll definitely win ‘best in show.’”

Harry blushes. “I doubt that, but that’s nice of you to say. From what I’ve been told, I think that everyone gets some kind of award. It’s about making sure everyone feels valued, not about determining who’s the best.”

“That makes sense,” Louis nods. “Good for team morale. But I still imagine you’ll win the top prize.” His eyes glint mischievously. “Make sure you remember the little people in your speech.”

“Like you?” Harry teases.

“Yes, like me!” Louis protests when Harry laughs.

Harry attempts to school his face into a neutral expression as he sits up, pretending to cradle an award in his hands. “And thank you, to Louis Tomlinson, for always distracting me while I try to work, because he knows I would rather play hide and seek with his adorable twin siblings than water my flowers.”

Louis laughs, throwing his head back to expose the lean line of his throat. Harry giggles, hand covering his mouth.

“Yes, exactly like that!” Louis agrees, giving Harry a brief round of applause. “But I do _not_ distract you! I always wait until the end of your shift to come by, and you’re usually finished with your work anyways.”

“You’re right, you’re right,” Harry concedes, holding up his hands in surrender and not thinking about how Louis just suggested he intentionally plans his park visits around when Harry will be available.

“I know I’m right,” Louis replies, grinning. “So I should hear nothing but genuine thanks in your acceptance speech.”

“Okay,” Harry agrees. “If I win an award, there will be nothing but genuine thanks when I mention you.”

“That’s all I ask.”

They sit in silence for a moment, finishing their slices of pizza and taking sips of their beer.

“So do you think you’ll come then?” Harry asks, nervous despite their banter. “I don’t remember the exact date, but I can find out and let you know.”

Louis smiles, eyes crinkling at the corner. His voice is noticeably softer when he replies, “Well, I have to go if I’m having an award dedicated to me, don’t I?”

Harry swallows, but nods. “I’d say it’s only fair.”

“Then it’s settled,” Louis states firmly, eyes sparkling.

Harry swallows again, the atmosphere feeling thick around them. He wonders if Louis feels it, if Louis’ heart is thundering in his chest just as Harry’s is. If Louis feels like the air is full of potential, unspoken hopes on the tip of their tongues.

Louis must feel something, Harry can’t help but think, as Louis’ expression softens, appearing almost shy as his hands toy with the hem of his hoodie. When Louis speaks, his tone is hushed, nervous.

“Maybe if I go to the flower show,” Louis murmurs, eyes flickering down before locking with Harry’s, “I can get up some nerve before everything goes terribly wrong.”

“What do you mean?” Harry asks, fighting the urge to reach across the space, to take Louis’ nervous hands and still them.

Louis looks away again, taking a deep breath before looking back at Harry. “Every time I work up enough courage around you, something horrible happens. We get trapped in the shed, I break out into hives –”

“Why do you need courage around me?” Harry wonders, giving into the urge and taking Louis’ hand in his. Louis’ hand freezes as Harry tangles their fingers together. When Louis looks at him, Harry can see the hope he’s feeling himself reflected back to him.

“I need –” Louis stutters, voice dry. “I need courage around you, because whenever we’re alone –” He stops, and Harry can see his mind whirring as he tries to pick the right words. Louis gnaws at his lip, and Harry can feel his own hand trembling. When Louis releases his lip, there’s a new found determination in his eyes. “I need courage because I always want to kiss you, but I’m too nervous to do it.”

Harry’s heart stutters as he exhales heavily.

Louis’ eyes are wide, hopeful. “Can I?” Louis asks breathlessly, hand squeezing Harry’s. “Can I kiss you, Harry?”

Harry can barely breathe, can barely process the words spoken to him. There’s so much hope in Louis’ eyes, so much anticipation. And the realization stops Harry in his tracks, overwhelming and thrilling him. Louis wants him too. He wants to kiss him and they’re holding hands and _Louis wants him back_.

“Yes,” Harry breathes, grip tightening on Louis’ hand. “Kiss me, Louis.”

Louis lets out a shaky breath, a relieved smile overtaking his face. Tugging on their intertwined hands, Louis pulls Harry towards him, both of them moving slowly, their eyes never breaking.

Louis’ other hand comes up to cup Harry’s jaw, fingertips soft on his skin, tracing over the skin delicately.

Harry pauses mere inches from Louis’ face, eyes still locked. Harry can see the gold specks in Louis’ blue eyes, bright and brilliant up close. Harry watches as Louis’ eyes flicker down towards Harry’s mouth, and Harry’s tongue instinctively darts out, wetting his lips.

A small noise escapes Louis, and then he tilts his head and closes the distance.

Harry’s eyes slip closed at the first gentle brush of lips, soft against his own. Harry can taste a hint of pizza and beer, but also something else – something undeniably sweet and addictive. They move gently against one another, trading gentle, almost hesitant, but undeniably overwhelming kisses. Louis’ beard lightly scratches his skin, prickly yet perfect.

Louis breaks the kiss, leaving Harry dazed and already wanting more. His lips tingle, and Harry can’t help but suck his bottom lip into his mouth, tasting Louis’ lingering kisses.

“God, Harry,” Louis breathes, pressing their foreheads together. “Do you know how beautiful you are? You take my breath away.”

Harry feels his cheeks heating, already warm from Louis’ touch and attention, but now flaming under his praise.

He shakes his head, but only just, so as not to jostle them.

“I’m not,” Harry denies. “You are.” He lifts his other hand to touch Louis’ face, a mirror of how Louis is touching him. Harry feels the gentle scratch of Louis’ beard against his fingertips, rough under his sensitive skin. “You are so beautiful.”

The space between them is unforgivable, and now that Harry has tasted Louis, he doesn’t think he could ever do without again. Without another word, Harry closes the gap, reclaiming Louis’ mouth.

Louis responds immediately, hand slipping from Harry’s jaw into his hair and his other hand breaking from Harry’s grip to also wind into Harry’s curls. Louis leans back, pulling Harry even further with him. Harry braces one hand on the armrest behind Louis’ back, while the other cradles Louis’ jaw, keeping their mouths joined.

With Louis pressed against him, bravery courses through Harry’s veins. He teases his tongue lightly over the seam of Louis’ lips. Louis immediately opens up to him, tongues sliding together hotly. Harry groans at the contact, crowding into Louis’ space even more as Louis’ hands tighten in his hair. Their heads tilt in opposite directions as they trade deep kisses, tongues twisting together.

“Let me take you to dinner,” Louis murmurs against Harry’s lips, warm breath washing over him. “Let me take you out.”

“Now?” Harry asks, sucking Louis’ bottom lip into his mouth and biting down pointedly.

Louis’ hands loosen in Harry’s hair, moving to his chest to push him back slightly. Harry reluctantly releases Louis’ mouth, leaning back enough to look into Louis’ eyes. They’re dark with desire, yet still sparkling. His lips are red and swollen, and Harry already wants to kiss him again.

“No, not now,” Louis replies as his thumbs rub over Harry’s collarbones through the thin fabric of his shirt. “This week – before you go visit Manchester. Let me take you out. I’ve wanted to take you out for ages.”

“Why didn’t you ask then?” Harry asks, dipping his head to kiss at Louis’ neck, the skin warm and soft under his lips.

Louis’ head tips to the side to give him better access. When he speaks again, his voice has gone breathless, “I didn’t think you’d want to.”

Harry trails his lips up Louis’ neck, leaving feather light kisses before catching Louis’ mouth in a sweet but brief kiss. “Why would you think that?”

When Harry leans back, Louis looks shy.

“You remember when you came over for lads’ night?” Louis asks, hands dropping to Harry’s waist to play with the hem of his shirt.

“Yeah,” Harry confirms.

“Well,” Louis looks down, watching his hands fiddle, “I overheard you tell Niall you weren’t interested in dating since you just moved. I didn’t want to pressure you.”

Louis glances up through his eyelashes, and Harry gives him a fond look. “I didn’t mean you, you tosser,” Harry laughs, Louis’ brows rising. “Niall was trying to set me up with some random bloke, and I told him I wasn’t interested in dating whoever he wanted to set me up with. I didn’t mean you.”

Louis huffs a disbelieving laugh, hand running through his hair. “Yeah, about that,” he says sheepishly.

“What?” Harry asks, eyebrows knitting together.

Louis sighs, rubbing a hand over his face. “I didn’t tell him to do this, and I was so embarrassed when he told me, but the friend Niall was going to set you up with was me.”

“What?” Harry repeats, laughing in surprise.

“Yeah, he could tell I already liked you, so he was trying to gauge your potential interest.” Louis releases Harry’s shirt, holding his hands up in defense. “I didn’t ask him to, I swear. He only told me the next day.” His hands drop back to his lap, his fingers tangling together nervously. “Apparently if you’d been interested, he was going to try to convince me to go on a blind date as well, and then we’d show up at the restaurant or whatever and it would be you and me.” Louis rolls his eyes. “Sneaky Irish bastard thinking he was clever trying to set us up.”

Harry smiles, taking Louis’ hands back in his and tangling their fingers together. “I think it’s sweet. A bit invasive from my perspective since I’d only just met him, but it’s nice in a way.”

“Yeah?” Louis asks, hope saturating his tone.

Harry nods. “But I’m glad it didn’t work, because now I can tell you myself. Yes, I’d love to go on a date with you.”

Louis’ smile fills the room with light, radiating and shining so brightly that Harry can’t help but feel overwhelmed.

“You don’t know how happy that makes me,” Louis murmurs, squeezing Harry’s hands. He tugs him closer and Harry goes willingly, catching Louis’ mouth in a sweet kiss.

With Louis soft and warm against him, trading lingering kisses and with the promise of a date on the horizon, Harry would say he’s pretty damn happy too.

 

“Where is my phone?” Harry mutters, slapping his hand down onto the bed and feeling around on the duvet until his fingers come in contact with the cool plastic of his phone case. That’s what he gets for buying both his duvet and his phone case and basically everything else he owns in the same matching shade of rose gold. Everything just blends together when he’s looking for something specific.

And it has the unfortunate habit of making him late, and tonight, Harry cannot afford to be late.

Because tonight is important. Tonight is his first date with Louis.

He tucks his phone into his pocket, checking his reflection in the mirror one last time. And in his humble opinion, he definitely looks like first date material.

The cream colored silk shirt he’s wearing makes his pale skin look darker, slightly tanned. He’s left the first few buttons undone, but regretfully decided to keep the butterfly tattooed on his stomach hidden. That is more second date material. His short hair is styled into a messy quiff, making him look disheveled yet sophisticated. His black jeans cling to him, accentuating his pert bum. His favorite pair of leopard print boots complete the look.

His stomach is full of butterflies, excitement thrumming through his veins. Harry and Louis had spent the rest of Sunday wrapped up in each other, kissing and talking for ages while a film played in the background. Louis had suggested they watch something other than _Sweeney Todd_ , since that didn’t really capture the romantic atmosphere he wanted to maintain. Harry had giggled and agreed, kissing Louis’ neck lightly while Louis searched for a Sunday afternoon film on the telly.

It had been a perfect day, and Harry hadn’t wanted to leave that night. But with the promise of a date that Thursday before he left for Manchester, Harry had felt happier than he had in ages.

Harry’s just finished tugging on his black pea coat when there’s a knock on the front door. Harry grins to himself, double checking that he has his keys, wallet, and phone, before heading to the door.  

There’s a slight spring in his step as he walks into the hallway, hands fidgeting and heart pounding.

When he opens the door, all the breath is knocked out of him.

If Harry thinks Louis looks stunning in a tank top and jeans (which he definitely does), there is no way he could be prepared for how breathtakingly beautiful Louis is dressed up. Louis’ hair is in a quiff, emphasizing the sharp, defined cut of his cheekbones and the brilliant blue of his eyes. He’s wearing a dark red shirt with a black blazer over top. His tight black jeans are rolled at the cuff, showing off his delicate ankles and a pair of black Vans. He looks better than any runway supermodel Harry has ever seen, more beautiful and confident and _radiant_.

“Hi,” Louis says, voice almost shy. “Wow, Harry.” He clears his throat. “You look stunning.”

Harry’s eyes roam over Louis’ body ravenously before finally landing on his face. Louis smiles gently at Harry, eyes sparkling. “So do you.”

He gestures for Louis to step inside, shutting the door behind him.

Harry doesn’t realize that Louis’ kept an arm behind his back until he’s pulling it in front of him, a bouquet of flowers in his hand. “These are for you.”

Harry gapes at the bright red flowers. “They’re amaryllises,” Harry murmurs, taking the flowers and pressing his nose to them, inhaling the sweet scent. “Like the ones I’m growing.”

“Yeah,” Louis shuffles his feet, his face flushed. “I remembered what you said about flower meanings, so I wanted to give you ones that captured how I feel. Do you know what they mean?”

Harry shakes his head, fingers lightly tracing the soft petals.

“They mean splendid beauty.” Louis’ eyes crinkle. “Because that’s what you are to me.”

Harry’s face turns as bright as the vibrant red flowers, overwhelmed by how much he likes the man in front of him and at how incredibly thoughtful he is.

“That’s the most wonderful thing anyone has ever said to me,” Harry whispers, leaning forward to catch Louis’ mouth in a kiss. “Thank you, Louis. They’re beautiful.”

Louis tangles their fingers together, beaming up at him. “I’m glad you like them.”

“Love them,” Harry replies, unable to help himself as he kisses Louis once more. “Let me put them in some water and we can go.”

“Okay,” Louis replies, giggling as Harry breaks the kiss but doesn’t release his hand, tugging Louis along to the kitchen. “I have a reservation for us at seven so we don’t want to be late.”

“No, don’t want that,” Harry says as he fills up a vase with water only using one hand so that he can keep his hold on Louis’ hand. It takes a bit of maneuvering, but Harry is able to get the flowers into the water and place the vase on the mantelpiece in the living room without ever letting go of Louis.

The flowers light up the room brilliantly, the rich color creating a more vibrant yet homey atmosphere.

With the most beautiful flowers he’s ever seen on his mantel and the most beautiful man he’s ever seen holding his hand, Harry doesn’t know how the date could get any better.

 

Impossibly, the date gets better.

Louis takes him to an Italian restaurant overlooking the river, the night sky twinkling with the city lights. Soft music plays, the murmur of other patrons low in the background as Harry focuses all his attention on Louis.

They chat about their weeks, casual and easy. Harry feels himself relax into the date, despite his nervous excitement. Louis’ soft, lilting voice and kind smile immediately put Harry at ease.

“Have you heard back about _Sweeney_ _Todd_?” Harry asks as he sips at his glass of red wine.

Louis shakes his head. “It’s only been two days since the audition, so I don’t expect to hear from them for another couple of days at least. But I think the callback went really well. It’s always hard to tell, but I’m hopeful.”

“I’m sure you’ll get it,” Harry replies confidently. “When will the show run?”

“At the end of the summer, which is great because it’s before school is back in session. Trying to balance teaching during the day and doing two hour shows at night is absolutely exhausting.”

“I can imagine. How long will it run for?”

“Two weeks, or thereabouts. It’s not every night, thank God, but it’s about eight shows in that time, which is quite a bit when you’re not a professional West End actor.”

Harry nods. “That still sounds like a lot, but I bet it’ll be great.”

“It will be,” Louis replies, “as long as I get the role.”

“You will,” Harry repeats. “I mean, you better. Otherwise I’ll never get to see _Sweeney Todd_.”

“Yeah?” Louis grins, voice hopeful. “You’d come to a show?”

“If you’re in it, I’ll come to all of them,” Harry confesses. Maybe it’s a bit too honest for a first date, but it’s Louis. Their friendship makes him comfortable and brave, willing to hint at his hopes for the future. Granted, the show is months away, but Harry can’t help but hope things will still be going well with them at that time. If that’s the case, there’s no way he’d pass up the multiple opportunities to see Louis act and sing. All while wearing a top hat, for Christ’s sakes.

Louis blushes, ducking his chin in an attempt to hide his smile. “I’d like that,” he says in a quiet voice.

Harry grins, dimple popping. “Then I’ll be there.”

Their food arrives shortly after, smelling absolutely delicious. Harry digs in hungrily to his crab tortellini, while Louis eats his ravioli with tomatoes and gorgonzola.

“So I have a small confession to make,” Louis says around a bite of food.

Harry quirks a brow in curiosity. “What is it?”

Despite bringing up the topic himself, Louis blushes, sipping his wine to distract him. “Um, I’m hoping I’m not coming on too strong by telling you this, but you know how the other day I told you I’d wanted to ask you out for ages?”

Harry grins, butterflies fluttering in his stomach at the memory. “Yeah.”

Louis looks down, and Harry wonders if he’d be messing with his fringe if his hair wasn’t styled. He probably would be, and Harry would be hopelessly endeared. But honestly, he is regardless.

“Well, you were kinda the reason that I came back to the park each week,” Louis confesses, looking up at Harry shyly. “Before I met you, I’d only taken the twins to the park once or twice before to meet up with Nan. It was sheer luck I met you that one week, and then after finding out you were there every week,” Louis shrugs, “I just had to come back. I wanted to see you again.”

Harry thinks his face might be permanently stuck in a ridiculous, goofy grin. He sets down his fork to reach across the table, taking Louis’ hand in his and rubbing his thumb across his knuckles.

“I’m so glad you did,” Harry replies earnestly. “After I met you, all I wanted was to see you again. I hoped so much, honestly I think I even prayed, that I would see you again. You made me laugh and put me at ease and you were the first person I met in Leeds that truly made this place feel like it could be a home.”

Louis’ smile is breathtaking. “Really?” He squeezes Harry’s hand.

“Absolutely,” Harry replies. “Moving here has been really difficult, but it’s already been so worth it because I’ve met you.”

In response, Louis leans across the table to catch Harry’s mouth in a sweet, tomato-flavored kiss. Harry grins into the kiss, undeniably happy.

“I really like you, Harry,” Louis says quietly as he leans away. He squeezes Harry’s hand. “I just want you to know that so there’s no misunderstanding.”

“I really like you too, Louis.” As Louis grins bashfully, Harry doesn’t think he’ll ever stop smiling.

They finish dinner soon after and Louis drives Harry home. It’s only after nine o’clock, but since Louis gets up at six to get to work the next morning, they can’t stay out much later.

Louis walks Harry to the door, hands swinging between the two of them.

“Would you like to do this again?” Louis asks as they pause in front of Harry’s flat. His feet shuffle nervously against the pavement.

In response, Harry lightly grips the lapels of Louis’ blazer, pulling their bodies together and connecting their mouths for a deep kiss. Louis sighs happily against Harry’s lips, hands tangling in Harry’s hair as his tongue teases against Harry’s.

Louis tastes like a faint hint of red wine and cheese, but the sweet, addictive taste that Harry knows now is Louis overrides all other senses. Harry wants to drown in Louis’ smell, his taste. He flattens his palms on Louis’ chest, and he can feel the faint thundering of Louis’ heart beneath his fingertips.

“I’d love to go on another date with you,” Harry murmurs against Louis’ lips, words getting lost as Louis reclaims Harry’s tongue, sucking greedily.

Louis moans softly, hands tightening in Harry’s hair as his head tilts for better access.

“I’d say let’s go tomorrow night if you weren’t going to visit your family,” Louis replies, breaking the kiss but not moving away. They breathe heavily against each other, bodies still pressed close together.

“Don’t wanna go anymore,” Harry confesses breathlessly. “Want to stay with you.”

When Louis looks up at Harry, his eyes are bright and hopeful. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Harry replies before ducking his head to kiss Louis again.

“When do you come back?” Louis asks, pressing a light kiss to the corner of Harry’s mouth.

“Sunday night.”

“Would you like to go out on Monday then?” Louis scratches lightly at Harry’s scalp, and Harry fights the inexplicable impulse to purr.

“Monday would be perfect,” Harry replies, telling himself that it’s only four days and not a century like it seems.

“Okay,” Louis grins, pressing a quick kiss to Harry’s lips. Then as an echo of Harry’s thoughts, “Why does that seem so far away?”

“I know,” Harry giggles. “It seems unfairly far away.”

Their lips meet for another sweet, slow kiss. Harry doesn’t ever want to let go.

“Okay,” Louis says, pulling back slightly from Harry. “If I don’t stop this now, I’ll never leave.” Harry giggles, hiding his face in Louis’ neck. The smell of his cologne is sharp and inviting, and Harry darts out his tongue to have a taste. His skin is warm, and his taste is addictive.

“You’re going to be the death of me,” Louis moans, pulling Harry’s head up to kiss him once again. “But I really do need to get home.”

Harry pouts, unable to help it. Louis laughs, pressing a quick kiss to Harry’s protruding lower lip. “See you Monday?”

“Yeah,” Harry replies breathlessly, grinning. “See you Monday.”

They reluctantly break apart after one final kiss, Louis waving over his shoulder as he heads to his car.

Harry watches Louis drive away, headlights fading into the night. He leans heavily against the door, unable to move. He presses his head against the door, letting his eyes slip close as his lips twitch. Slowly, a breathtakingly bright smile spreads across Harry’s face. His hands shake with excitement, body feeling electric and alive.

Eventually he makes his way inside, knowing that it’s getting late and that he needs to go to bed.

As he heads to the bedroom, he pauses, taking a moment to admire the amaryllises resting atop his mantle.

“Splendid beauty,” he murmurs disbelieving, pressing his nose to the sweet smelling petals and inhaling.

Harry gazes adoringly at the red flowers for another moment or so, when a sudden idea strikes him. Smiling, Harry turns to his bedroom, quickly finding what he’s looking for and returning to the living room.

Carefully, he lifts the vase of amaryllises so that he can slide his dried flower crown around the base of the glass. He places the glass back down carefully, making sure he doesn’t crush any of the dried flowers.

He steps back, a fond expression settling on his face as he looks at the flowers. The fresh, bright flowers from his date with Louis stand proudly in the vase, while the faded in color yet still lovely dried flowers that he received the day he met Louis decorate the base.

They’re beautiful together.

With a small smile, Harry heads to bed, replaying the events of the evening through his head. It was perfect, absolutely perfect.

One date with Louis Tomlinson and Harry knows he’s ruined for anyone else.

 

“Love, can you pass me that spade?”

The sky is overcast and grey. Harry shivers in his oversized hoodie as he kneels in the dirt.

“Sure,” Harry replies, passing his mum the spade he’d been using as they work together in the garden of his childhood home, flowers blooming and trees green around them.

It’s no surprise that Harry finds himself in the garden on his visit home. In all honesty, it would have been more surprising if he hadn’t ended up there. Working alongside Anne has always been his favorite way to spend time with her, bonding and catching up as they dig into the earth, planting flowers and vegetables.

As they weed the garden on the overcast Saturday, Harry tells Anne about his life in Leeds and how he’s adjusting. He talks about his work and the LHS, talks about his flat and how he’s thinking of adopting a pet. A cat or dog seems like too much of a commitment right now, so he’s thinking of getting a fish instead.

“How about that group of friends you’d made?” Anne asks, pushing her hair out of her face. “How has that been going?”

Harry tugs at the weeds as he remembers telling his mum about the very first lads’ night. He’d expressed his hope to her that things would go well, that he would bond with the other lads and hopefully establish some close friendships with people his own age.

“It’s good,” Harry replies. “I’ve been having weekly lunches with Liam and Niall. Liam’s the songwriter and Niall’s the one in law school,” he clarifies, knowing Anne will remember him telling her about them before. “They’re both really great guys, and they’ve been really happy to help me settle in by giving me recommendations to places or whatever else I may need to know.”

“That’s so lovely,” Anne smiles. “You always make friends wherever you go. It’s no surprise that you’re already connecting with some nice people.”

“Yeah,” Harry nods. “I’m really happy about it.”

“What about that other boy?” Anne asks. “The one you met at the park?”

Harry blushes, keeping his eyes down as he works. He knows that if his mother were to take one look at him, she’d be able to read everything on his face.

“That’s Louis, and yeah, we get on really well. Probably the best out of the other lads I’ve met.”

“Oh?” Her tone doesn’t suggest or imply anything, simply curious.

“Yeah, he’s really funny and really nice. He’s great-grandson to one of the ladies I volunteer with – Olive, I think I’ve told you about her. Anyways, he comes by every week and brings his twin siblings who are three and absolutely adorable. They’re always asking to play with me and it’s really sweet.”

Anne chuckles. “Kids have always adored you.”

Harry grins. “Yeah, and Ernest and Doris are so much fun. They love to wear flower crowns and have been helping me plant in the garden. It’s so great.”

“Louis may start to suspect you’re only hanging out with him to play with his siblings,” Anne teases, bumping his shoulder.

Harry blushes, knowing that if Louis had ever thought that, he certainly doesn’t now. Harry’s never kept anything from his mum, and despite his preference to keep his romantic life private, he’s always wanted to share with Anne.

“Actually,” Harry says, tucking a growing curl behind his ear. He glances towards Anne, who’s looking at him curiously. “Louis and I are dating.” He smiles bashfully as he says the words aloud. “Well, I don’t know if we’re _officially_ dating, but we’ve gone on a date and we’re going on another one. And he says he really likes me and I really like him, so I certainly _hope_ we’re officially dating.”

“Oh, love,” Anne wraps her arms around Harry, tugging him close. “That’s so wonderful. I’m so happy for you.”

“Really?” Harry asks, unable to keep the hope out of his voice.

Anne nods. “You just seem so happy – so much happier than when I last visited you in February. And if Louis is any part of that, any part of making my boy happier than I’ve seen him in ages – well, then of course I think it’s wonderful.”

Harry smiles, heart filling with affection for his mother.

“He does make me happy,” Harry confirms. “So, so much. And I really like him. So, so much.”

“If that’s how you feel,” Anne replies softly, “then I truly couldn’t be happier for you, Harry. That’s such an amazing thing to feel for someone.”

“It is,” Harry nods. “I’ve never felt like this before.” He laughs incredulously. “And we’ve only been on one date!”

Anne grins, kissing his cheek. “You should tell him. If you feel that way about him, make sure he knows. Don’t let him get away.”

Harry smiles, giving his mum a hug. “Thanks, Mum. I won’t.”

 

After dinner and a disastrously competitive game of Scrabble (Anne had to call for a timeout in the game when Harry and Gemma started fighting, threatening to send them both to their rooms like they were kids again), Harry’s phone rings.

He’s just crawled into bed, rubbing his eyes sleepily, when his phone lights up with Louis’ name. Harry grins, grabbing the phone before it can ring out.

“Hello?” Harry says, tummy filling with butterflies.

“Harry?” Louis’ voice answers, tinny but still high and raspy through the phone. “Did I wake you?”

“No,” Harry replies, crawling under his duvet and leaning against the pillows. “What’s up?”

“I got the part!” Louis exclaims. “In _Sweeney Todd_! They called me earlier today, but I missed it and only just checked my voicemail. But I got the part!”

“Oh my God, Louis!” Harry cheers, trying to keep his voice low but unable to contain his excitement. “I’m so excited for you! That’s wonderful!”

“Thanks,” Louis replies excitedly. “I’m just so thrilled, even though I thought I had a pretty good chance, you never actually know, you know? It’s going to be such a good show – I just can’t believe it!”

“I knew you’d get it,” Harry says, smile wide across his face. He would pepper Louis’ face with kisses if he were here, would tell him how wonderful he is. But Louis isn’t here, but Harry can still do the latter option. “You’re so talented – there’s no way you wouldn’t get the part.”

Louis giggles, and Harry’s heart jumps at the sound. “You’ve never even seen me act or heard me sing,” Louis teases. “So you can’t possibly know if I’m any good.”

“I just have an instinct about these things,” Harry replies. “And my instincts tell me that you have superstar qualities.”

Louis laughs. “You’re full of shit, but you should keep saying nice things.”

Harry grins, cradling his phone against his cheek. “You’ll be the star of the show. No doubt about that. All the reviews will give you five stars, and you’ll be whisked off to London to perform at the Royal Albert Hall. The Queen will attend your shows and throw flowers at your feet, weeping at the magnificence of your performance –”

Harry cuts off as Louis’ laughs grow so loud Harry can’t keep it up anymore. They giggle together across the line. In the darkness of the room, Harry is almost able to pretend Louis is with him.

“I don’t know how you always know how to say the perfect things,” Louis says, voice fond, “but you always do.”

Harry smiles, snuggling deep under his duvet and feeling so, so happy.

“Hey, Lou?”

Louis hums.

With Anne’s advice from earlier rattling around in Harry’s head, he gulps and confesses, “I just wanted to let you know how much I like you. You’re such an amazing person, and I really like spending time with you. And that I’m really excited for our date on Monday.”

It’s not new information. Harry had told Louis on their date on Thursday that he really liked him. And he knew they were both looking forward to their next date. But he wanted to say it again. He wanted to make sure Louis knew.

“Yeah?” Louis replies hopefully. “I’m really looking forward to it too. And I really like you too. It was so weird not going to Bramley today to see you.”

“You didn’t go to the park today?” Harry laughs.

“I told you, I’d only been going every week to see you,” Louis reminds him, also laughing.

“Well, yeah, but I thought maybe you’d gotten into the habit or something.”

“Nah,” Louis replies. “It was just for you.” Harry’s heart stutters. “Honestly, it didn’t even cross my mind until my mum called and asked why I hadn’t picked up Ernest and Doris yet.”

Harry snorts, covering his mouth with his hand as he laughs. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Yeah,” Louis confirms easily. “But you already said you liked me, so no getting out of it now.”

Harry grins, sinking contentedly into the mattress. “I wouldn’t want to.”

 

Harry and Louis go out every night that week.

On Monday, they have dinner at a pub, curled up in a warm corner, drinking pint after pint and trading wet, beer-flavored kisses. On Tuesday, they grab dinner before going to the cinema, sharing a bag of popcorn and holding hands throughout the whole film. On Wednesday, they get ice cream and stroll through the city centre, Louis pointing out various landmarks. On Thursday, they play mini golf, Louis’ fiercely competitive side coming out when he learns that Harry loves to play in his free time.

Each date has been low key and perfect. Louis makes him laugh so hard, and one night Harry even snorts water out of his nose when Louis tells a particularly funny story about his uni days. Harry makes Louis laugh too, his eyes always crinkling and his expression always fond as Harry tells story after rambling story.

Each night ends with Harry and Louis clinging to each other as they trade deep, hungry kisses. It never goes further than that, Louis always leaving Harry breathless, mouth swollen and pulse racing. Kissing Louis is addictive. Touching Louis is divine. Harry spends half of their dates just looking for excuses to lightly touch Louis’ wrist or bump their shoulders together. But Louis always seems to know what Harry is aiming for, and then he’ll take Harry’s hand or kiss his cheek and Harry will beam like its Christmas come early.

Louis plans their date on Friday night, telling Harry it’s a surprise and that he’ll pick him up at six. Harry has to race home from work to have enough time to shower and dress, but it’s worth it as soon as Harry opens the door and sees Louis waiting for him.

“So where are we going?” Harry asks when they’ve been driving for about ten minutes. “We’re not heading towards the city centre.”

“That’s because we’re not going to the city centre,” Louis replies cryptically, smirking at Harry.

Harry’s confusion only deepens as Louis points the car north, driving through one small village after another.

“Are you kidnapping me?” Harry asks. “Are you taking me to Scotland?”

“Great job, Haz, you figured it out,” Louis answers dryly. “I’ve kidnapped you and we’re going to live out the rest of our lives on Loch Ness looking for Nessie. I didn’t know how to tell you.”

Harry giggles, tangling their fingers together on the center console. “You could have just told me. I always thought that if I didn’t go into PR, I would have made a great wilderness man.”

Louis cackles, squeezing Harry’s hand.

It’s only as they approach the town of Harrogate that Harry figures it out.

“Louis,” Harry’s eyes dart over one of the road signs and things suddenly make sense. “Are we going to Harlow Carr?”

Louis’ grin spreads across his face, bright and blinding.

“Maybe…”

“Louis!” Harry exclaims as they pull into the carpark of the famous garden. “This is absolutely perfect! How did you know I wanted to come here?”

Louis shrugs, clearly pleased by Harry’s reaction. He parks the car, turning towards Harry. “You’re a gardener. And the RHS has the best gardens the country. I figured you’d like it.”

“I love it,” Harry replies, leaning across the console to give Louis a brief kiss.

“We haven’t even seen anything yet,” Louis points out.

“Doesn’t matter,” Harry replies, fingertips light on Louis’ jaw. “Already love it.”

They have dinner in the café, looking over a map Louis picked up at the gardens’ entrance. Harry knew that the Royal Horticultural Society’s gardens were massive, but he’s only ever been to Bridgewater, their gardens near Manchester. As they look over the map, Harry is overwhelmed with options. He wants to see everything but knows they couldn’t possibly have the time.

“We’ll have to come back,” Harry says matter-of-factly around a bite of his fish and chips. “There’s no way we can see everything in two hours.”

Louis nods. “I know, I know. We’ll have to make a full day of it sometime. But since you have your volunteering tomorrow and I start rehearsals on Sunday, I wasn’t sure when would be the right time. I thought it’d be nice to at least get a few hours in. We can go wherever you want to in the gardens, but I do have one place I want us to go for sure.”

“What do you have in mind?”

Fifteen minutes later, Harry and Louis arrive at a quiet section of the gardens, the light of the setting sun blanketing the earth in a golden hue.

“The Tulip Trail?” Harry reads the sign overhead, his voice breaking slightly as Louis holds his hand tightly. “Lou, you brought me to the Tulip Trail?”

When he looks over at Louis, his eyes are slightly watery. He feels so overwhelmed, so surprised that Louis remembers their conversation. Remembers what tulips mean to him.

“I know you wanted to redeem the tulip,” Louis replies in a quiet voice. “So I thought we could make our own tulip-related memories.”

It’s cheesy, but Harry doesn’t care. It’s perfect. He lets out a watery laugh, leaning over to give Louis a kiss. “I can’t believe how thoughtful you are,” Harry murmurs. “Thank you.”

Louis squeezes Harry’s hand, giving him another kiss before tugging him along the trail.

As they walk amongst the tulips, Harry stops to point out his favorites and take photos. The walkway is vibrant with color – purples, pinks, reds, yellows, and oranges set the gardens ablaze. The aroma is absolutely heavenly, the scent of the flowers strong yet calming.

They lose track of time along the trail, Harry forgetting about the rest of the gardens and deciding to stay amongst the tulips until the gardens close.

Eventually they settle on a park bench, facing the setting sun. They sit quietly, watching families and couples move about them. As the sun sets, the air around them grows chillier, but with Louis snuggled up against his side, his head on Harry’s shoulder, Harry feels impossibly warm.

“Hey, Lou?” Harry breaks the peaceful silence around them when the sun is just an orange slit on the horizon.

“Hm?” Louis replies, head a comfortable weight on Harry’s shoulder.

Harry strokes his thumb across Louis’ knuckles, enjoying the feel of the soft skin. He wonders if Louis can feel how fast his heart is beating or the rapid stuttering of his breath.

“I’ve really enjoyed the dates we’ve been on this week,” Harry begins, testing the waters.

“Me too, Haz.” Louis’ voice is lazy, content. He gives Harry’s hand a light squeeze. It gives Harry the courage to continue.

“I can’t remember the last time I’ve been this happy with someone. I just feel so at ease with you, and we always have so much fun together.”

Slowly, Louis lifts his head from Harry’s shoulder. When he looks at Harry, he has a pleased smile on his face.

“We do,” Louis agrees. “Being with you makes me really happy.”

“Me too.” With tentative fingers, Harry reaches up to brush the fringe out of Louis’ eyes, his fingers lingering on his temple. When Louis turns his head to give Harry’s palm a gentle kiss, Harry feels like he can hardly breathe. “You make me really happy, too. And I was wondering if you wanted to be boyfriends. Like, officially.”

Louis’ smile is radiant. Harry wonders for a second if the setting sun has shot back up in the sky, flooding the world with light again. “Yeah?” Louis asks, voice undeniably hopeful. “You want to be boyfriends?”

Harry nods. “Very much a lot.”

“Good,” Louis replies, voice soft. “Because I want that very much a lot too.”

When their lips meet, Harry can feel fireworks going off in his brain, brilliant and bright and booming. He brings his other hand up to cup Louis’ face, tilting his head as their lips suck gently together. Louis’ hands fist in the bottom of Harry’s shirt, pressing into his soft hips. Each kiss is tender and affectionate, tongues teasing, wet and quick.

“Boyfriend,” Louis mumbles against Harry’s lips, and suddenly Harry is smiling so wide he can’t kiss properly.

“Boyfriend,” Harry confirms, hiding his smile in Louis’ neck.

“You don’t know how happy that makes me,” Louis murmurs, kissing Harry’s cheek. “So, so happy, Harry.”

“Me too,” Harry replies, kissing Louis’ neck. His cologne is strong and fresh, the smell familiar to Harry by now. He kisses the spot where the smell is the strongest, loving the feeling of Louis’ warm skin beneath his lips.

Harry trails his lips up Louis’ neck, tongue darting out as he sucks at the skin. His kisses become wetter, deeper, and Louis’ tilts his head to the side, giving Harry better access.

“Harry,” Louis breathes, fists tightening in Harry’s shirt as he sucks a bruise into Louis’ jawline.

The breathless way Louis says his name has Harry groaning. He dusts kisses along Louis’ jaw before catching his mouth in a deep, hungry kiss.

Their kisses are more frantic now, a new, desperate urgency in each swipe of tongues, press of lips, and bite of teeth.

“Come home with me tonight,” Louis whispers against Harry’s mouth. “Please, Harry. Want you.”

Harry groans, pressing a hard kiss to Louis’ mouth. Harry’s cock has undoubtedly taken an interest in their feverish kisses, Louis’ breathless noises, and the warm and grounding press of his hands. With Louis solid and flushed against him, the answer is easy. In fact, no answer has ever been easier.

“Yes, Louis,” Harry replies, pressing the words to his lips. “Want that too. Want that so much.”

Louis presses himself impossibly closer to Harry in response, hands unclenching from his shirt to hold firmly onto his hips. But despite their desperation, their shared desire to go home and just touch one another, they stay hidden away in the corner of the park, as the sun sets and the flowers of perfect love create a private, intimate cocoon around them.

 

The drive back from the gardens isn’t as frantic as Harry would have expected. The thirty-minute journey considerably cools them off, despite the way their hands stay intertwined on the console and they can’t stop shooting each other nervous yet excited looks the whole time.

As soon as they step through the front door of Louis’ flat, their hesitancy evaporates. Louis kicks the door shut, crowds Harry against the wall, and proceeds to kiss him like a starving man and Harry is his only source of nutrients.

“God, Harry,” Louis breathes, pressing his thigh to Harry’s groin.

Harry’s breath hitches as he grinds his hardening length against Louis’ thigh. His hands fist in Louis’ hair, fingers curled around the soft strands as he clings desperately to Louis.

Louis invades all his senses – Louis’ taste, his smell, the heat and feel of his body. Louis’ teeth are relentless on Harry’s bottom lip, sucking and nibbling on it, claiming it as his own. Louis’ hands wind into Harry’s hair, scratching at his scalp as he sucks greedily on Harry’s tongue.

“Lou,” Harry groans when Louis shifts and their groins rub together. He can feel Louis’ hardness, and God, Harry wants to touch. Wants to touch with his hands, with his lips. Wants to feel the weight of Louis on his tongue, wants him to make his mouth wet and his jaw sore.

“Bedroom,” Louis gasps against his lips, grinding tantalizing circles against Harry’s groin.

“Please,” Harry breathes.

They stumble down the hallway, barely able to walk since they refuse to let go of each other for one second. Harry pushes Louis up against the kitchen counter, not releasing him until he’s sucked a sizable bruise into the side of Louis’ neck.

When they finally make it to the bedroom, Louis wastes no time pushing Harry onto the bed.

“Louis,” Harry gasps as his back hits the mattress. Immediately, a warm weight settles on his hips, Louis leaning down to connect their lips in a searing kiss.

Harry’s hands clench in the back of Louis’ shirt, pulling him closer.

“Off,” Louis murmurs, hands at Harry’s chest and fiddling with his buttons. “Off, please.”

Louis makes quick work of the buttons, shrugging Harry’s shirt off his shoulders.

When the shirt falls to the mattress, Louis sits back on Harry’s lap, eyes roving hungrily over Harry’s skin. “You are so beautiful,” Louis murmurs, hands reaching out tentatively to touch Harry’s chest. He thumbs Harry’s right nipple and a needy moan escapes Harry’s lips. “So beautiful,” Louis repeats, dipping his head down to catch Harry’s mouth in a deep kiss. “Don’t even know what to do with myself.”

Louis doesn’t let up on Harry’s lips while his hands explore. He traces the line of his pecs, thumbing relentlessly over his nipples to elicit breathless noises from Harry. Eventually their lips break apart so that Louis can kiss down Harry’s neck to his chest. He sucks on Harry’s collarbones, using his teeth liberally against the sensitive skin, the scratch of Louis’ beard rough and tantalizing. He tongues at Harry’s nipples, making them wet and puffy and biting them gently for the way Harry’s back arches off the mattress.

Louis’ lips trail down Harry’s sides, nibbling on his soft hips and then pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses to them.

He brings his lips to the coarse hair leading into Harry’s pants. Louis breathes hotly over it, fingers stroking the dusting of hair before drifting down to the button on Harry’s trousers.

Louis looks up at him through his eyelashes, and Harry’s breath catches. Louis looks debauched – hair wild, eyes blown, and lips red and swollen. Harry wants to kiss him for one hundred more years.

“Can I?” Louis asks, fingers resting against the button.

Harry nods, voice catching. “Only if you take off your clothes too.”

Louis grins wickedly, popping open the button of Harry’s trousers before climbing back up his body. “How about you help me with that?” he asks against Harry’s lips.

If Harry had the capacity to think of anything other than Louis, he might thank his lucky stars that Louis’ shirt has no buttons. But as it is, all he can think about is getting Louis naked as fast as possible, so he tugs Louis’ shirt over his head with no finesse, his mouth watering at the sight of Louis’ tan, golden skin.

Harry wraps his arms around Louis’ back to flip them over, crawling on top of Louis and immediately attaching his mouth to Louis’ neck.

Louis’ skin tastes like caramel, sweet and rich beneath his tongue. He bites at the fresh bruise he left on Louis’ neck while they were in the kitchen, cock twitching at the high-pitched gasp Louis lets escape. Harry trails open-mouthed kisses down his neck to his collarbones, running his tongue along the defined bone. His hands run up and down the firm planes of Louis’ stomach, savoring the feel of his warm skin. Harry shifts away from Louis’ collarbone, but instead of moving down Louis’ chest, Harry takes Louis’ arm and pins it to the mattress. He attaches his mouth to Louis’ bicep, kissing, biting, and sucking over the words Far Away scrawled into Louis’ skin.

“Love your arms,” Harry groans, feeling the muscle twitch under his mouth. “All those tank tops you wore, Lou. _God_. Thought I was going to die.”

A sweet, breathless giggle escapes Louis’ lips and Harry stops pressing kisses to the muscled skin. He moves his head so that he’s looking right down at Louis, quirking a brow. Louis’ expression is one of slight guilt, but also amusement. Harry is undeniably charmed.

“What?” he asks, voice rough.

Louis grins sheepishly. “I wore those tank tops for you. Knew how they made my arms look.” He shrugs, but his smile turns mischievous. “Was hoping they’d make you swoon at my feet or something, and I could woo you that way.”

Harry giggles, leaning down to catch Louis’ mouth in a sweet kiss. “Well, I can definitely say they worked. They make you look like a fucking model. And those aviators, _God_ ,” Harry moans, grinding down into Louis. “You definitely make me swoon.”

“Good,” Louis replies, pleased. He wraps his arms around Harry’s neck, pulling him in for another kiss. “Shows you how much I like you that I wore them when it was fucking freezing outside. Christ, thought I was going to die that day.”

“I was wondering why you did that!” Harry laughs, pressing soft kisses to Louis’ neck. “You wonderful, ridiculous, beautiful man.” He leans back so that he and Louis can look at each other. Louis smiles up at him, crinkle eyed and breathtaking. “You didn’t need to freeze to make me like you. I was already smitten.”

“Even then?” Louis asks.

“Even then,” Harry confirms, catching Louis’ mouth in a deep kiss.

They kiss hot and wet until they begin moving rhythmically against each other, cocks searching for friction through a number of layers that should be criminal.

Harry sits back, pushing his trousers down and kicking them off so that he’s only in his pants. He helps Louis do the same, feeling almost reverent as he fingers the waistband of Louis’ pants.

“May I?” Harry asks breathlessly, eyes fixed at the hard line of Louis’ cock straining against the black fabric of his pants.

Louis nods, Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows.

Harry pushes Louis’ pants down slowly, revealing his dark pubic hair before finally freeing his cock. He quickly removes Louis’ pants the rest of the way, throwing them onto the floor. Louis’ cock springs towards his stomach, hard and pink and _thick_ and Harry’s mouth waters with how much he wants to taste.

He leans down slowly, breathing hotly over it.

“Harry,” Louis moans, and they lock eyes. The sight of Harry hovering open mouthed above his dick must be too much for him, Louis’ head falling against the mattress, a string of curses escaping his lips, and a bubble of precome appearing at the tip of his cock.

The sight is also too much for Harry, and his tongue darts out to taste, gathering the moisture and greedily swallowing it down. His lips suckle lightly around the head of Louis’ cock, tongue teasing his slit, more precome gathering on his tongue.

Harry wraps his hand around the base of Louis’ cock, widening his jaw as he takes Louis down, inch by inch. The pressure on his tongue feels incredible, the weight heavenly and grounding. Harry swirls his tongue against Louis’ length, teasing over the thick vein so that his cock becomes wetter and wetter.

When his lips meet his fist, Harry begins to bob his head, taking Louis all the way down and back up again.

“Christ,” he hears Louis swear, and feels his hips twitch against the mattress. “Harry,” he gasps, fingers tangling in Harry’s hair. “Don’t wanna – don’t wanna come like this.”

Harry pulls off reluctantly, lips puffy and spit still dribbling from the corners of his mouth. He gives a quick kiss to the head of Louis’ cock before crawling back up his body, connecting their mouths in a hungry kiss. Louis sucks on Harry’s tongue, moaning greedily at the taste of himself.

“Wanna fuck you,” Louis moans. “Wanna come inside you.”

Harry’s hips stutter down against Louis’, grinding wantonly as he moans deeply.

“Please, Lou,” Harry groans, hiding his face in Louis’ neck as he feels Louis’ fingers tug at the waistband of his pants. “Want that too.”

Louis pushes down his pants, freeing Harry’s cock and leaving naked skin against naked skin.

“Think about it all the time,” Louis murmurs against Harry’s lips. “How you’d look falling apart on my cock. Want that so much.”

Louis’ hand snakes in between their bodies, wrapping around Harry’s cock. The pressure of Louis’ small, tight fist is exquisite, and Harry can’t help but thrust into it, groaning loudly at the feeling.

“Please,” Harry gasps, breath stuttering out of him as Louis twists his wrist on the upstroke.

Louis presses one last kiss to Harry’s lips before twisting out from beneath him. Harry settles on his back as Louis digs through his bedside table in search of lube and a condom. Harry props a pillow beneath his hips, resting his head against the headboard and lightly stroking his cock until Louis cries, “A-ha!” and throws lube and a condom onto the duvet.

When he turns back to face Harry, Louis sucks in an audible breath. “Christ, look at you,” Louis breathes, leaning over to kiss Harry. “You’re so beautiful, Harry. So, so beautiful.”

“Louis,” Harry groans against his lips, overwhelmed by Louis’ words.

Harry’s hands reach up to cradle Louis’ jaw as Louis crawls on top of him, straddling him as Harry sinks against the pillows. They kiss lazily, mouths hot and wet as their hands explore, touching every inch of soft, golden skin.

Louis presses a lingering kiss to Harry’s mouth before pulling away, moving down his body to settle between Harry’s legs. Harry spreads his legs to accommodate Louis, knowing the movement debauches him further. He peers down at Louis through his eyelashes, his cock curved towards his belly as Louis fiddles with the lube.

When he slicks up his fingers, Louis looks up at Harry. “Are you ready, love?” Louis asks, his dry hand petting soothingly over Harry’s thigh.

In response, Harry plants his feet into the mattress, Louis’ hand falling away. His new pose puts him on display for Louis, and Harry can feel his hole clench greedily when Louis swears quietly.

“Yes,” Harry replies breathlessly, and right then, he feels Louis’ finger at his hole.

Harry exhales harshly, the simple touches sending divine sensations all through his body. Louis spreads the lube around his hole, teasing and stroking at the clenching muscle. Slowly, Louis works his finger into Harry, lube squelching as it aids the slide.

Harry gasps, hands clenching in the bedsheets at the feeling, body feeling like it’s ablaze. His hairline is damp with sweat, and he can feel a bead of sweat trickle down his temple. Every place Louis touches him feels hot and electric.

“Are you alright?” Louis asks, finger stilling as he attempts to gauge Harry’s reaction.

Harry squeezes his eyes shut, nodding frantically. “Yes, feels amazing. So good, Lou. S’just been a while, that’s all.”

“Oh, love,” Louis replies, pressing a kiss to his knee. “I’ll go slow, yeah? Just want to make you feel good.”

“Okay,” Harry croaks, any other words lost as Louis’ finger begins moving inside of him, teasing in and out, stroking the muscles and making Harry feel like he’s absolutely flying.

As Louis’ finger moves inside of him, Louis mouths at Harry’s knee, biting lightly as he works him over. Harry’s eyes flicker open to see that Louis looks just as affected as he does. Louis’ lips are parted in a breathless and contented sigh, his eyes shut as he savors the feeling. He presses a kiss to Harry’s knee and then opens his eyes, meeting Harry’s gaze.

Louis grins, lazy yet sexy. “You look so good, Harry. So beautiful.”

“Louis,” Harry moans, hands reaching for him. Louis’ free hand catches ahold of Harry’s, pressing a kiss to his knuckles. They intertwine their fingers, palms sweaty but grips firm.

When Harry feels a second finger nudge against his rim, his eyes slip closed.

“Okay?” Louis asks breathlessly.

“Yes,” Harry replies, hardly recognizing his own voice – deep and rough.

The second finger slips in, and Harry already feels so much fuller. The stretch is delicious as Louis slowly scissors his fingers to make room for himself in Harry’s body. Each touch, each stretch of his fingers is reverent.

“So beautiful, Harry,” Louis repeats, voice soft and fond. “Thought about it so much – how you would look with me inside you. You’re even more beautiful than I imagined.”

“You thought about this?” Harry asks, body shaking with pleasure.

“God, yeah,” Louis replies, huffing a laugh as if it was obvious. “Did you know you make these little grunts when you work? Or whenever you seem to be thinking really hard? Christ, they’re the most intoxicating sounds I’d ever heard, and I would try not to get hard while we were standing around talking about flowers and vegetables because _you kept making those damn noises_.”

“I didn’t know I did that,” Harry replies truthfully as Louis’ fingers slip out of him and then right back in.

Louis laughs dryly. “Well, you do. And I couldn’t help but wonder if you’d make those kinds of noises in bed.” He kisses Harry’s knee again. “Turns out the noises you make are even better.”

As if to prove his point, Louis chooses that exact moment to press his fingers against Harry’s prostate, bolts of pleasure lighting Harry’s body on fire.

Harry cries out, back arching off the mattress and cock blurting precome at the sensation. His hands twist in the sheets, sweat dampening his skin.

“Christ, just like that,” Louis breathes. “You sound so good, Harry. And you look so beautiful.”

“Louis,” Harry gasps, chest heaving as Louis teases at his prostate again.

In response, Louis slips a third finger inside, scissoring and stretching Harry’s hole.

He fills so full, so impossibly full and so impossibly wonderful.

Louis’ fingertips rub over his prostate in lightning quick, maddening touches. A constant stream of moans and gasps fall from Harry’s lips, his cock dribbling precome, sliding down his shaft.

“I’m ready,” Harry groans, body twisting against the sheets. “Lou – please. I’m ready.”

Harry whines when Louis’ fingers pull out, his hole clenching at the empty feeling. But then Louis is crawling back up his body, catching his mouth in a hot, desperate kiss, and Harry sighs contentedly. He lets Louis take control of the kiss, biting at his sore lips and tongue tracing the corners of his mouth. Harry breathes heavily, arms wrapping around Louis’ waist to hold him as they kiss.

“Gonna fuck you now,” Louis murmurs, pressing the words to Harry’s swollen mouth in a gentle kiss.

“Please,” Harry whispers, voice rough with desire.

Louis kisses him once more before moving back down Harry’s body. Harry watches as he finds the condom, knocked about against the sheets, before rolling it on easily. Louis settles between Harry’s legs, knees pressed into the mattress. Harry lifts his legs, wrapping them around Louis’ waist and pulling him closer.

He feels Louis’ cock nudge against his hole, and Harry struggles to keep his eyes open. He wants to watch as Louis fucks him, as Louis enters him for the first time, but the sight is overwhelming.

His breath catches as he feels Louis press in, moving slowly, gentle and careful. The stretch is heavenly, Louis’ cock thicker and fuller than his fingers. His body feels electric, pleasure coursing through his veins as Louis fills him inch by inch.

When Louis bottoms out, he pauses, both of them taking a moment to breathe. Louis looks up at Harry through his eyelashes, his fringe falling into his eyes.

“How do you feel?” Louis asks.

“Amazing,” Harry replies earnestly. “God, so good, Lou. Just – move. Please, I’m –”

Harry’s words break off into a heady moan as Louis pulls all the way out and absolutely slams back in. A beautiful, breathless grunt falls from Louis’ lips as he moves, bracing himself on Harry’s chest as he snaps his hips back and forth.

Each thrust punches a deep groan from Harry, full and overwhelmed and surrounded by Louis.

“Harry, you feel incredible,” Louis grunts, hips snapping rhythmically. “God, so fucking perfect.” Louis bites his lip, head falling back and eyes slipping shut. “So fucking perfect.”

“God, Louis!” Harry cries as Louis shifts his hips, pressing up against Harry’s prostate and making his cock blurt more precome. His chest heaves as he reaches up to cup Louis’ face. “Louis, you’re so beautiful. You’re so beautiful like this.”

Louis whines, practically crashing down onto Harry to catch his mouth in a needy kiss. They can hardly kiss, both breathing too heavily, but Harry feels grounded by having Louis so close. Being able to feel Louis’ hot breath against his face, his nose pressing into Harry’s cheek with each particularly hard thrust.

They stay close to each other as Louis continues to thrust back and forth, Harry rocking his hips down to meet him. Their synchronization connects Louis’ cock with Harry’s prostate on every single thrust, making Harry feel weak and powerless, helpless but to submit to the waves of pleasure washing over him.

“So amazing,” Louis murmurs. “My boyfriend. My beautiful, fucking perfect boyfriend.”

“Louis!” Harry gasps, back arching as Louis presses against his prostate, Louis’ sweet words flooding his senses.

“Yeah? You like that?” Louis grunts, balls slapping against Harry’s arse as his hips pump back and forth. “Like being my boyfriend?”

“Love it,” Harry moans, throwing his head back and squeezing his eyes shut.

“Boyfriend,” Louis presses a kiss to the corner of Harry’s mouth, breathing the words into his skin. “Wanted to ask you out the second I met you, and now look at us. You’re my _boyfriend_. And I’m yours. God, don’t know how I got so lucky. Love being yours. Only been your boyfriend for a couple of hours and they’ve probably been the best of my life –”

“Louis,” Harry thrusts his hips desperately to meet Louis’. “Gonna – gonna come –”

“Yeah, come for me, boyfriend,” Louis grunts, biting at Harry’s bottom lip. “My beautiful boyfriend, so happy you’re mine. So happy to be yours –”

Just like that, Harry tumbles over the edge. His back arches off the mattress, hands clenching in the sheets as he comes untouched against his stomach. The heat unfurls through his body, consuming him from head to toe as he burns in pleasure.

Louis gasps high-pitched and breathless as Harry starts to come, and he feels Louis’ thrusts turn erratic. With a sweet, raspy cry of “Harry!” he shoots off into the condom, burying his face in Harry’s neck.

Harry moans at the feeling, wishing absentmindedly that Louis didn’t have to wear a condom, wanting to be wet and messy from Louis’ come. Maybe that will be a possibility in the not-so-distant future.

They come down together, bodies pressed against each other as they breathe heavily. Louis kisses at Harry’s neck, hands gentle as they hold onto him.

After Harry’s breathing has evened out, he turns his head to catch Louis’ mouth in a sweet kiss. His lips are practically numb, but he can still feel the gentle pressure of Louis’ lips against his, moving delicately with each tender kiss.

Eventually, Louis rolls off Harry, taking off the condom, tying it, and dropping it in the bin by the bed. He plucks some tissues off the bedside table, using them to wipe Harry down quickly and efficiently. When that’s taken care of, he throws them in the bin as well and curls into Harry’s side.

“Hi,” Harry giggles breathlessly.

Louis boops their noses together. Harry is hopelessly endeared. “Hi, yourself.”

Harry tangles their fingers together, closing the distance between them to give Louis a kiss. Even now, after it feels like he’s been kissing nonstop for hours, Harry resents any second that their lips aren’t pressed together.

“That was really lovely,” Louis murmurs, pulling back far enough that Harry can see his eyes crinkle. “Like, really lovely.”

Harry sighs contentedly, nuzzling into Louis’ neck. “Best boyfriend ever.”

Louis laughs incredulously. “Boyfriend, Christ. Still feels like I’m dreaming.”

Harry grins, kissing whatever skin is closest. This time, it’s right by Louis’ Adam’s apple. “If you are, it’s the best dream ever,” Harry declares through a giggle.

Louis strokes Harry’s cheek, and he leans back to look into Louis’ eyes. “Nah, I don’t think I could dream you up,” Louis’ voice is undeniably earnest. “You’re better than anything I ever dreamed of.” His eyes crinkle, cheeks pink. “You’re my splendid beauty.”

Harry’s expression softens, pressing a kiss to Louis’ knuckles. “And you’re mine.”

They fall asleep tangled together, murmuring the word “boyfriend” in between sweet presses of lips.

 

Soft sunlight streaming through the window is the first thing Harry is conscious of as morning breaks.

The second thing is the warm weight wrapped around him, soft and heavy and comforting against his back. Harry can feel Louis huffing gently into the nape of his neck, the streams of air tickling Harry’s sensitive skin.

Harry smiles contentedly, burrowing his face into the pillows which smell clean and fresh and just like Louis.

He stays wrapped in Louis’ arms until he feels him begin to move behind him, chapped lips smacking together lazily and arm tightening around Harry’s waist.

“Morning,” Louis murmurs gruffly, pressing a dry kiss to Harry’s neck.

Harry hums in response, turning in Louis’ arms so that they’re facing each other.

Louis is sleep soft and rumpled in the early morning light, eyes crinkling, lips pink and swollen, and hair mussed like candy floss.

“Morning,” Harry replies, unable to keep from smiling.

Louis smiles back, expression fond and eyes brilliantly blue. “How did you sleep?”

“Really well,” Harry answers honestly as Louis reaches out to gently stroke his cheek with his fingertips. Louis’ fingers run along his cheekbone, ending in his hair, tangling lightly in the messy strands. “You’re an excellent cuddler.”

Louis chuckles, thumb rubbing at Harry’s scalp. “I love a good cuddle. And you’re like a giant teddy bear space heater. The perfect little spoon.”

Harry grins. “Love being the little spoon.”

“Good, because I love being the big spoon.”

Louis leans in to give Harry a gentle closed-mouth good morning kiss. Their lips have only just met when the blare of Louis’ alarm startles them apart.

“Shit,” Louis swears, turning away from Harry to turn off the alarm. He clicks away at his phone until the beeping shuts off. “I have it automatically set; must have forgotten to turn it off last night.”

“What time is it?” Harry asks, stretching his arms and legs.

“Half six,” Louis replies. “Are you going to Bramley this morning?”

Harry nods. “Yeah, I usually get there by nine.”

“Enough time for breakfast then?” Louis asks hopefully.

“Sounds perfect,” Harry responds, giving Louis a kiss.

They don’t bother getting dressed, heading into the kitchen naked and clingy. Harry sets about making tea while Louis prepares eggs on toast. They sit at the kitchen table, feet tangled underneath, as they munch on their breakfasts.

Out of the corner of his eye, Harry notices the piano in the living room, its wood golden in the morning light.

“Hey, Lou?” Harry asks, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Yeah?” Louis replies, sipping at his tea.

“I still haven’t heard you play piano.”

Louis’ eyes crinkle, grinning. “Is that so?”

Harry huffs out a breath. “It _is_ so. And as your boyfriend, I think it is profoundly unfair that I haven’t seen you in sexy musician mode.”

“Sexy musician mode,” Louis chuckles, putting down his mug of tea. “Would you like a performance then?”

Harry nods enthusiastically as Louis stands up, dropping his napkin on his empty plate.

“Come on then,” Louis holds out his hand, and Harry readily takes it.

Louis leads him to the piano, taking a seat. Harry sits next to him, their warm sides pressed together.

“What would you like to hear?” Louis asks, fingers splayed over the keys. “I can do a bit of Bach.” His fingers run over the keys, a beautiful, lilting melody filling the room. Harry’s eyes stay glued to Louis’ hands, nimble and deft on the keys, muscles in his hands stretching as they move effortlessly across the keys. “Or maybe some Mozart.” A more upbeat melody fills the room, reminding Harry of a classical waltz in a Jane Austen film. “I can even do some modern music.” The melody changes, a familiar tune pouring from the keys. Harry can easily recognize the romantic notes of Ed Sheeran’s Thinking Out Loud.

“All of it,” Harry replies, watching Louis’ hands move gracefully across the keys. “All of it sounds so beautiful, Lou.”

Louis grins, fringe falling in his eyes as he looks to Harry. The melody continues, even with Louis’ attention now on Harry.

“Glad you think so,” he murmurs, smiling softly at Harry. Harry returns his easy smile, and then they both look back to the piano.

Louis continues to play until the melody fades out, keys ringing softly with the final notes.

“You’re so talented,” Harry praises. “I mean, I knew you would be. But it’s nice to have it confirmed.”

Louis chuckles. “Glad you think so, love.” He gestures towards the books on top of the piano. “See if you can find something in those you’d like me to play. Gotta make the most of your private performance.”

“I intend to,” Harry assures him, standing up enough to rifle through the books. His eyes widen and a smile breaks across his face when he recognizes a familiar band name.

“Fuck yes,” Louis says as Harry plops the book down onto the stand. “ABBA is my ultimate guilty pleasure.”

“Mine too,” Harry agrees, flipping through the book to find his favorite song. “It kills me that I didn’t get to see you in _Mamma Mia!_ You in swimming shorts singing love songs. What more could a man want?”

Louis laughs, eyes sparkling. “You can have a private performance of that too if you want, love.”

Harry grins. He has the best boyfriend.

“Here we are!” he exclaims as he finds the song he wanted. “My favorite.”

“Love this song,” Louis says, fingers hovering over the keys. “Was my favorite one to perform.” He looks towards Harry. “Want to sing it together?”

Harry can’t nod his head fast enough. “Let’s do it. Me as Sophie, you as Sky.”

Louis laughs, his fingers settling on the keys.

The opening chords of [Lay All Your Love On Me](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dxn9hbJh3uc) fill the room, vibrant and upbeat, ringing and cheerful. Louis’ fingers bounce against the keys, light and quick.

As he listens, Harry becomes acutely aware that he’s never heard Louis sing before. Louis’ speaking voice, high and raspy, is in itself music to Harry’s ears. He can’t imagine how perfect Louis’ singing voice must be.

As Louis opens his lips to sing the first verse, Harry is absolutely floored.

Louis’ voice is rich and strong, the high, raspy quality ringing clearly through each word he sings. Harry’s cock twitches against his thigh at the sound of Louis’ voice, suddenly becoming aware of how close they’re pressed, naked skin on naked skin.

_I wasn’t jealous before we met, now every man that I see is a potential threat. And I’m possessive it isn’t nice. You heard me saying that smoking was my only vice. But now it isn’t true. Now everything is new. And all I’ve learned is overturned. I beg of you._

As Louis’ verse comes to a close, he looks over at Harry, smirking as he sings. He nods towards Harry to join in at the chorus, and Harry takes a deep breath, allowing his voice to blend with Louis’ in perfect harmony.

_Don’t go wasting your emotion. Lay all your love on me._

As they both sing, Harry is overwhelmed by how good they sound together. Both sing powerfully, Harry’s deep voice mixing beautifully with Louis’ high pitch. They both grin at each other as they sing the words, enchanted by each other and the promise the words hold.

As they finish the chorus, Harry takes over the next verse, voice deep and strong. He watches as Louis’ eyes widen at the sound of Harry’s voice, clearly enchanted. And just as Harry reacted to Louis’ voice, Harry watches as Louis’ cock twitches between his legs.

_It was like shooting a sitting duck. A little small talk, a smile and baby, I was stuck. I still don't know what you've done with me. A grown-up woman should never fall so easily._

As Harry sings, he does a little shimmy, bopping his head along to the beat. Louis laughs, also moving his shoulders as his fingers bounce against the keys. Harry can’t stop smiling, but at the next lines, he runs his hands through Louis’s hair, messing it up and making Louis laugh even louder.

_I feel a kind of fear when I don't have you near. Unsatisfied, I skip my pride. I beg you, dear._

Before launching into the chorus, Harry holds his hand up to his mouth as if he’s clutching a microphone, throwing his other arm out dramatically to make Louis laugh.

_Don’t go wasting your emotion. Lay all your love on me. Don’t go sharing your devotion. Lay all your love on me._

They can hardly finish the song after that, too busy laughing at their dramatic, over-the-top performance. Harry giggles, leaning into Louis’ side as Louis hits a couple of wrong notes, too busy laughing to play the right ones.

“Your voice is so gorgeous!” Louis exclaims, wrapping his arms around Harry’s waist and kissing his cheek. “Like I knew your voice was deep, but fuck.”

“Yours is like a bell,” Harry replies, nuzzling his nose into Louis’ sweet smelling hair. “Clear and high and so, so pretty.”

Louis giggles, kissing Harry’s cheek again. “Don’t know how I’d ever be able to let you help me practice for _Sweeney Todd_. Wouldn’t be able to focus on anything other than your voice.”

“Well, I don’t actually think I’d be able to sing any of Johanna’s parts,” Harry points out. Louis had played some of the soundtrack for him the other day, and he really liked the music. “I’m not a soprano.”

“Good point,” Louis giggles, giving Harry’s hip a playful pinch.

“Play me something else,” Harry requests, leaning back to look at Louis.

“What do you want me to play?”

“Dunno,” Harry shrugs. “Whatever you want.”

“How about [Clair de Lune](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CvFH_6DNRCY)?” Louis suggests. “I can play that one from memory.”

“Yes, love that one,” Harry agrees easily. “Play it.”

He settles next to Louis, leaving him with enough space so that he can stretch his arms to reach the higher key register.

As the soft, gentle notes fill the room, Louis’ eyes slip closed. Harry watches as the music overtakes him, Louis’ expression transforming from playfulness to a profound seriousness. The poignant emotion of the song is clear in every line of Louis’ face, from the firm set of his mouth to the way the corners of his eyes pinch as his hands move across the keys.

Harry watches in rapt fascination, the lighthearted mood of only moments ago gone as the poignancy of the song overtakes them both.

As Louis’ body moves with the song, swaying and head tilting, Harry can’t help the way his body responds in kind. His cock hardens as he watches Louis, and his hands itch to touch. He twists his hands together, trying to resist the urge, but as Louis’ brows pinch together as his hands fly higher up the keys, Harry can control himself no longer.

When Louis’ neck tilts to the side, Harry quickly moves off the piano bench, crowding up behind Louis. His lips fall to Louis’ neck, his right hand circling Louis’ cock as the notes stutter to a halt.

“Keep playing,” Harry breathes against Louis’ neck, sucking a bruise into the soft skin.

Harry can feel Louis swallow, his hands landing clumsily on the keys as he keeps playing. The melody returns, but Harry can hear Louis’ hands trembling against the keys as Harry pumps his cock steadily.

Louis gasps; the notes stutter again but he doesn’t stop as Harry twists his wrist, thumbing at the head of his cock. Louis had barely been aroused when Harry moved behind him, but he can feel Louis’ cock hardening in his hand with each stroke. Harry grins against Louis’ neck, kissing up to his jaw so that he can feel the rough scratch of stubble against his still sore lips.

Harry can feel his own hard cock between his legs, overwhelmed by having Louis in his hand, his skin under his lips, and hearing the beautiful sounds he’s creating on the piano.

Louis plays a rapid, elegant part of the song, his fingers faltering only slightly as Harry continues to stroke him, teasing his slit and twisting his wrist.

The song comes to a messy finish, Louis unable to hold out the lingering, final notes. As soon as the piano falls silent, Louis’ hands fall to the bench, grasping the edge with a white knuckled grip. “Harry,” he gasps, hips thrusting up into Harry’s fist.

Louis turns his head, catching Harry’s mouth in a deep, wet kiss, tongues twisting together. Harry quickens the pace of his wrist, breathy uh-uh-uhs escaping Louis’ lips as his hips thrust upwards.

“Come for me,” Harry whispers into Louis’ mouth, thumbing relentlessly over the head of Louis’ cock.

One more swipe of Harry’s thumb and Louis does just that, coming into Harry’s fist with a breathless, sweet moan. Harry groans as Louis’ come fills his hand, biting at Louis’ lips and tugging on them gently.

“Harry,” Louis breathes when he finishes coming, leaning his entire weight back into Harry’s chest. “Want you to come too.”

Harry had hardly noticed how hard he’d become, cock pressed between his stomach and Louis’ back, dripping madly at every heavenly noise Louis makes.

Louis scoots over on the piano bench, giving Harry enough room to sit down next to him again. The angle is a bit awkward, but Louis wraps his fist around Harry’s hard, wet cock and begins stroking it with skillful flicks on his wrist.

Harry groans, sinking into Louis’ side. Louis’ hand runs through his hair, tugging lightly at the small curls behind his ears. “So beautiful, Harry,” Louis murmurs, lips moving against Harry’s shoulder.

It only takes a couple of more flicks of Louis’ wrist for Harry to cry out, hips stuttering as he comes onto his stomach. Louis strokes him through it, murmuring sweet words that Harry only half hears. Louis’ other hand continues to rub at his scalp, his lips pressing gentle kisses to Harry’s face as he finishes coming.

“So beautiful,” Louis repeats, catching Harry’s mouth in a tender kiss. Their lips move gently against one another, relishing the feeling of being so close to one another.

“We should shower,” Louis sighs, clearly as unwilling as Harry is to leave the spot. “We’ll have to leave soon.”

“Are you coming to the park today?” Harry asks, giving Louis’ neck a quick kiss.

“If you want me to,” Louis replies.

“Always want you to,” Harry answers easily. He furrows his brow. “You’ll have to drive me though, or drop me off at my flat so I can get my car.”

“I can drive you,” Louis agrees without hesitation. He thumbs Harry’s hipbone. “You can just borrow some of my clothes if you like. Don’t think what you wore last night is garden appropriate attire.”

They share a smile, hands stroking lazy circles into the other’s skin.

“I guess I don’t have any other choice,” Harry concedes.

“You don’t,” Louis replies, pressing a quick, pleased kiss to Harry’s lips. “I’ll have to drop you off though since I did promise my mum I’d take the twins today. Can’t bail on them like I did last week.”

Both of them chuckle, pressing one last kiss to the other’s skin before linking hands and heading to the shower together.

 

Harry wonders if Bramley Park has always been this bright and beautiful, or if his positive mood is just so contagious that even the flowers are a bit more radiant and colorful.

He sings as he works, unable to keep the smile of his face as he weeds his budding flowers. His entire body feels tingly, the memory of Louis’ hands and mouth on his skin still fresh in his mind. Electricity zips up his spine as he remembers how Louis had moaned the word “boyfriend” against his lips, claiming him and making him come from the simple word.

He smiles to himself, tugging on the light green t-shirt Louis insisted he borrow. “It matches your eyes,” Louis had said as he tossed the folded shirt to Harry across the room earlier that morning. With that kind of logic, Harry hadn’t put up any protest. He can smell the subtle hint of Louis’ cologne buried in the fabric, and Harry can’t help but press his nose to the collar and inhale every now and again.

It’s only been a couple of hours since Harry saw Louis, but he’s already aching to see him again. Anytime he hears a child’s high pitched squeal, his head whips around to see if Ernest and Doris are playing amongst the flower beds. Anytime someone says his name, he practically jumps out of his skin in his desperation to see if it’s Louis calling for him.

His stomach is a mess of butterflies and his cheeks hurt from smiling. If this is what Louis Tomlinson does to him, Harry can’t say he minds.

When Harry hears someone approaching his garden plot, his automatic reaction again is to turn at the noise, heart in his throat as he hopes that Louis has finally arrived at the park.

His heart falls only slightly when he sees that it isn’t Louis approaching him, but Jane and Susan.

“Hi, Harry,” Susan greets, but her eyes are cast downwards, refusing to look at him.

They have guilty expressions on their faces, and Harry’s brow wrinkles, perplexed by their obvious unease.

“Hi!” he replies brightly, despite his confusion. “Lovely day, isn’t it?”

Instead of responding, Susan nudges Jane with her elbow. Jane stumbles slightly, seeming to remember herself before looking up at Harry. Her expression is sheepish, regretful as she nervously twists her fingers together.

“Harry, love,” she begins, sighing. “I just wanted to say I’m sorry.”

Harry’s expression pinches, raising a gloved hand to block the sun and peer at the two women more closely. “What for?”

Jane takes a deep breath, an uneasy, apologetic expression settling on her features. When she speaks, her words are rushed. “Well, over the past few weeks, I’ve been trying to play matchmaker between you and Louis, and well, anytime I seemed to do that, something would go horribly wrong. You got locked in that shed, and honestly, I had no idea you were claustrophobic or I never would have suggested it. But then you had a panic attack and I can’t help but feel that my meddling was the cause of it. And then with poor Louis – I suggested you two work by the pond but then he reacted so badly to the plants and broke out in hives and I just – I didn’t mean for any of that to happen, Harry. I wanted to let you know that my matchmaking days are over, and I won’t interfere anymore. I hope you can forgive me.”

Harry’s eyes widen at Jane’s confession, her behavior the past few weeks suddenly making sense. Her insistent requests for Harry and Louis to go work together somewhere private – it was all in an attempt to set them up. Harry fights down a burst of laughter, amused that while Jane thought he and Louis weren’t getting anywhere, they were actually well on their way to where they are now. To being boyfriends.

He remembers how Jane had interrupted when they were having a deep, personal discussion at the greenhouse and when he held Louis’ hand for the first time. He had been perturbed by the interruptions, while Jane had thought she was helping them out.

Despite how upset he was by the panic attack and Louis’ hives, Harry can’t help but feel amused. He is touched that Jane thought so much of his and Louis’ potential that she wanted to set them up.

“Of course I forgive you,” Harry tells Jane, smiling and offering her a hug.

She sags into his embrace, clearly relieved. She pats him on the back and gives him a kiss on the cheek. “You’re a lovely man, Harry,” she tells him. “I’m glad to have met you, and I promise I will stop putting you in compromising situations with hot young men.”

Harry barks a laugh, giving Jane another hug before embracing Susan as well. She apologizes for her role in the matchmaking, but Harry reassures her easily.

As they walk away, shoulders no longer hunched in guilt, Harry can’t help but chuckle to himself.

Despite Jane and Susan’s apologies, he wants to keep the truth to himself. They wanted Harry and Louis together, and now they are. But Harry thinks he may keep that information private for just a little bit longer. He wasn’t lying when he told Niall that he’s uncomfortable with people interfering with his love life.

Thirty minutes later, Harry is filling up his water pail when he sees Doris and Ernest making their way across the park, tugging on Louis’ hands.

Harry’s face breaks into a wide smile, abandoning his pail at the pump and going to greet them along the path. He wants to run to Louis, to gather him up in his arms and kiss his pink, soft lips. But he is also aware that the other volunteers are nearby, watching them.

When Louis sees Harry approaching, he lets go of the twins’ hands so that they can barrel into him, grabbing at his legs and demanding to be picked up. Harry laughs, crouching down to give them both a hug, tickling their round bellies to make them shriek.

“Hi.” Harry looks up to see Louis watching him fondly, hands on hips, aviators pushed into his hair, and biceps bulging in his tank top. Harry can’t help the slight blush on his cheeks when he sees the bruise smudging Louis’ Far Away tattoo. The twins scamper away when they see their nan, leaving Harry and Louis alone.

“Hi,” Harry replies, voice soft as he stands to full height.

Louis starts to reach for him, but Harry catches his hand before he does, eyes wide.

Confusion flickers across Louis’ face, eyebrows climbing. “Everything okay?” he asks, voice heavy with concern.

Harry nods, chewing on his lip as he drops Louis’ hand. “It is, but the strangest thing happened this morning.”

He quickly explains to Louis about Jane’s apology, her failed matchmaking attempts and their consequences.

“That tricky minx,” Louis mutters, chuckling. He shakes his head. “We should have some fun with them.”

“What do you have in mind?”

Louis’ eyes sparkle at Harry as he grins. “Well, after all the trouble they’ve caused us, I think we should cause a bit for them. How about we pretend we’re still not together? We can flirt outrageously and whatnot to aggravate them, but they’ll never know that we actually got together. With no help from them, I’d say.”

Harry grins, fighting the impulse to kiss Louis for his genius. “That’s what I was thinking. I don’t really want to tell them, now that they’ve said they’re not going to meddle anymore.”

“Don’t think they deserve to know,” Louis grins, hands reaching for Harry’s waist before catching himself and stuffing them into his pockets. “Don’t know how I’m going to keep my hands to myself though. Now that I know what it’s like to touch you, don’t know how I could ever control myself.”

Harry smirks, leaning into Louis’ space so that his lips are by his ear. “Promise I’ll make it worth it. Later tonight I’ll let you touch me as much as you want. Wherever you want.”

Louis groans, hands clenching and unclenching at his sides as he tries to stop himself from grabbing Harry and pushing him onto the ground.

“Fuck, Harry, if you say shit like that I won’t be able to help myself.”

Harry huffs a quiet laugh, leaning away from Louis with a satisfied, confident smirk.

“Come on, not-boyfriend. Let’s go flirt and be sickening and drive everyone crazy.”

Louis chuckles, flicking his aviators down onto the bridge of his nose. He intertwines his hands in front of him, reaching up and stretching from side to side. Harry’s eyes are glued to the bulge of his muscles, the round slopes of his biceps, and the soft hair of his underarms. Louis smirks at Harry’s dazed expression, arms falling loosely to his sides.

“Let’s do it.”

 

For the rest of the afternoon, Harry and Louis hardly leave each other’s sides. They tease each other constantly, flirting exaggeratedly but comfortably. Out of the corner of his eye, Harry sees all the other volunteers pretend not to watch them, Jane and Susan in particular looking agonized as Harry playfully touches Louis’ arm, fingers lingering slightly.

Louis offers to fill Harry’s water pail for him which leads to a small water fight, Harry and the twins shrieking wildly as Louis throws handfuls of water at them. Harry doesn’t miss the way Louis’ eyes linger on his damp chest, his wet shirt clinging to him as his nipples harden from the cold water. The heat in Louis’ gaze is almost enough for Harry to say fuck their plan so that he can pin him to the ground for a proper snog, but then the twins begin chasing Louis with a water hose and Harry forgets all about that as he laughs as Louis scampers away.

During their pub lunch, Harry and Louis sit pressed close together, arms and legs rubbing against one another as they eat and drink. They chat with other volunteers, Louis and Joe getting into a lively argument about a recent football match while Harry chats with Rebecca about his weekend visit with his family.

Harry is in the middle of a story about how Gemma’s cat decided to claw apart his mum’s favorite throw pillow when he feels a light pressure on top of his foot. Louis’ left foot, soft and gentle, rubs across the top of the old trainers Louis loaned him. Harry’s words stutter at the feeling, hearing Louis huff a quiet laugh. Thankfully, none of the volunteers notice that Harry’s attention is suddenly elsewhere as he finishes up his story.

Rebecca then takes over, telling a story about how the dog she recently adopted is still using the bathroom in the house. Relieved at the distraction, Harry zones out, concentrating on the feeling of Louis’ foot dragging along the top of his. Harry feels an urge to reach under the table and hastily remove his and Louis’ shoes so that their bare skin can rub together in firm, smooth strokes.

Harry glances at Louis, cheeks warm and smile tugging at his lips. Louis looks back at him, sharing a private smile as his eyes twinkle. Harry’s breath stutters in his throat, unable to hide the full blown grin that overtakes his face. Louis smiles back just as brightly, but blushes, cheeks an attractive shade of pink.

Grinning, Harry drops his hand under the table, taking Louis’ hand in his and giving it a gentle squeeze. Louis’ thumb brushes over Harry’s knuckles once, twice, three times before he releases Harry’s hand with one final squeeze.

They return to their respective conversations, arms still brushing and feet still linked, out of the sight of the nosy volunteers.

All afternoon, they’ve been putting on a bit of a show for everyone with their over the top flirting and teasing. It really isn’t different from how they’ve acted around each other the past few weeks, but knowing everyone is watching made it feel more performative.

Even so, as they sit close together on the picnic bench, late April sun warming them, it’s just for them. Their feet tangled together, lazily stroking, is just for them.

Even though the volunteers had wanted them to get together, and tried to put them in ridiculous situations so that they might confess their feelings, Harry knows he and Louis went about it at their own pace. They got together because they wanted to, because they fancy each other so unbelievably much, not because someone played matchmaker. They did it their way, just how they wanted to.

Harry wouldn’t have it any other way.


	3. Epilogue

_One month later_.

The Leeds Flower Show arrives with a burst of colorful flowers, consistently sunny weather, and a park filled with family and friends.

When Harry arrives at Bramley that afternoon, he goes straight to his garden plot to check on his flowers, only pausing briefly to wave at familiar faces. Over the past few weeks, he has worked diligently to make sure his flowers are happy and healthy. His constant attention has kept them from becoming infected with diseases or destroyed by pests, and when he last checked on them, they had almost fully blossomed.

As his plot comes in sight, Harry halts abruptly in his tracks, breath catching in his throat.

His flowers are radiant.

The daffodils shine as brightly as the summer sun, the golden petals reflecting the warm light. They stand tall, leaves a vibrant green as they stretch towards the sky. The daffodils line the edge of the plot, one neat row at the top and one at the bottom.

In between, in five rows, grow his amaryllises. The deep pink of their petals contrasts perfectly with the brightness of the daffodils. Their blended color reminds Harry of an intense shade of rose gold. The petals of the amaryllises are also wider and more pronounced than the daffodils, creating an eye-catching mixture of color and texture.

All the flowers look healthy and beautiful, and Harry can’t help but feel a burst of pride well up in his chest. These flowers are his babies – they’ve been under his constant care for the past several months – and now they’ve grown up into absolute beauties. Harry wonders if all parents feel this way when their kids grow up.

“Well, babe, I think you’ve got Gardener of the Year in the bag.”

Harry spins around at the sound of Louis’ voice, a smile as radiant as his flowers breaking across his face.

Louis grins back at him just as widely, moving towards Harry to wrap him in a tight hug.

The past month that Harry and Louis have been together has been one of the happiest of Harry’s life. Harry loves learning more about Louis every day that they spend together, things like how Louis only likes milk in his tea but can only drink coffee if it has sugar in it or how he can become so focused on piano that he can sit at the keys for hours without being conscious of time passing or how he always giggles when Harry kisses his ankles but how he always moans when Harry sucks on his toes.

The more time he spends with Louis, the more he falls for him. The more he knows that Louis is it for him.

But as they pull back from their hug, Harry doesn’t lean in to peck Louis’ lips like he so desperately wants to. They’ve managed to keep up their ruse in front of the LHS volunteers, pretending that they’re not dating but acting just as infatuated as they genuinely are. Jane has kept true to her word and not played matchmaker since, but she is clearly as frustrated with them as ever. Harry always has to stifle his giggles when he spots Jane about to rip her hair out when she sees Harry and Louis together.

The volunteers’ strained reactions are always an endless source of amusement. It’s tricky for Harry and Louis to keep their hands to themselves, but they always make up for it with heated snogging sessions in the back of Louis’ car once everyone has left and Olive has taken the twins back to Doncaster.

“Your flowers look beautiful,” Louis says, giving Harry’s hip a friendly squeeze before dropping his hands. “Can’t believe how well they turned out!” He leans down, sniffing at a pink amaryllis. “And they smell so good too!” When he stands back up, his eyes sparkle. “But not as good as you do.”

Harry chuckles, silently blaming his pink cheeks on a sunburn starting to form.

“Have you seen your nan’s carnations?” Harry asks, changing to a safer topic. “They turned out really lovely as well.”

“No, I haven’t,” Louis says. He tugs at the hem of his light blue t-shirt as he scans the crowds around them. His aviators rest on top of his head, sitting snuggly in his soft caramel colored hair. “Let’s go find her. I’m sure she’d want to show us.”

They weave their way through the crowds, stopping to admire other volunteers’ flowers and chatting casually with them.

“Oh, I should tell you,” Louis says as they step away from where Rebecca is proudly showing off her gladioluses. “I brought the twins, but I also brought –”

“Louis!” calls a feminine voice, an arm appearing over the top of the crowd to wave at him.

A grin breaks across Louis’ face as he steers Harry towards the voice. When they arrive at a break in the crowd, Harry immediately knows who that voice belongs to.

“Harry, meet my mum, Jay. Mum, this is Harry.”

“So lovely to meet you,” Jay coos, pulling Harry into a tight hug. She leans back, still holding onto his biceps tightly. Louis has shown Harry pictures of his mum, but meeting her in person, Harry is struck by how beautiful she is, and how much Louis looks like her. Her face is kind, an easy smile on her face as her eyes crinkle in a familiar way. “So happy to finally meet the reason that my boy was stealing my littlest babies every weekend.” She gives Harry’s cheek a kiss before looking slyly at Louis. “Can’t say I blame you, love. Think I would have done the exact thing.”

Harry laughs as Louis groans, “Mum,” eye roll evident in his tone.

“He could have wooed me with or without the twins,” Harry replies cheekily. “But the babies were an added bonus.”

Jay laughs, arms falling to her side. Harry hears Louis’ breathless laugh beside him, and Harry turns to see Louis smiling happily.

“I’m sure when they’re older Doris and Ernest will be thrilled to know that they were once used by their brother to pick up men,” Jay teases.

“Hey!” Louis protests as Harry and Jay laugh. He steps up to Harry’s side, slipping a possessive arm around his waist. “That was a onetime thing.” When he looks up at Harry, his eyes sparkle with fondness. “And I think they’d be very pleased to know they’ve brought their brother a lot of happiness.”

Harry smiles back goofily, momentarily forgetting that he should be in meet-the-parents-mode until Jay clears her throat. When they look back at her, she’s smiling widely.

“Well, speaking of the two monsters,” she says, nodding her head to her left.

Harry and Louis turn to see Olive emerging from the crowd, holding both Ernest’s and Doris’ hands. Harry grins fondly when he sees that both of them have faux-flower crowns on their heads, white blossoms resting beautifully in their curls.

They hug Harry excitedly, Doris climbing into Harry’s arms to give his cheek a wet kiss.

“Want to see the flowers you helped me grow, Dotty?” Harry asks, returning her kiss with an exaggerated smack.

“Yeah!” she exclaims, twisting precariously in his arms.

Jay laughs as Harry leads the small group towards his plot. “Doris and Ernest were so excited when they helped you plant some flowers,” Jay tells him, with Louis, Ernest, and Olive one step behind them. “I’ve wanted to show them my gardening since they could walk, but they never showed interest. All it took was Achoo’s new friend to let them help and now it’s all they talk about.”

“Aw, that’s so sweet,” Harry coos, giving Doris a small squeeze. “I’m glad they enjoyed it. But who’s Achoo?”

“Oh,” Jay chuckles, grinning. “You should ask Doris.”

“Doris,” Harry asks, giving her side a playful pinch. “Who’s Achoo?”

“Achoo!” Doris exclaims, pointing towards Louis as she wiggles in Harry’s arms.

“Yeah, love?” Louis responds from behind them.

Harry giggles, turning around to face Louis. “Your nickname is Achoo?”

Louis laughs, eyes crinkling. “It is to these little terrors,” he says, picking up Ernest and swinging him around until he’s shaking with high pitched laughter.

“How did that come about?” Harry asks.

Louis nods his head towards Doris. “This past Christmas, Doris had a really bad cold. She was really upset and sneezing all the time, so I decided to do everything in my power to make her laugh. Anytime she would sneeze, I’d copy it, but do it even louder and more exaggerated. Like –” Louis throws back his head and then practically folds his body in half as he fake-sneezes, “AAAA-CHOOO!”

Doris and Ernest scream with laughter, and Harry can’t help but chuckle as well.

“It was the only thing that seemed to make her forget about her cold,” Louis continues, shrugging. “And suddenly she didn’t seem to mind sneezing because she thought it was a competition between the two of us. She started trying to sneeze bigger and louder than me.” His eyes twinkle with mirth. “But you never did, did you Dotty?”

Doris just laughs, hiding her face in Harry’s neck.

“He’s so good with them,” Jay says fondly when Harry turns back around, falling into easy step alongside her. “They absolutely adore him.”

“It’s not hard to see why,” Harry answers honestly, unable to keep his own fondness out of his voice.

Jay smiles, reaching over to give his arm a tight squeeze.

They arrive at Harry’s plot and Harry sets Doris on the ground so that she can get a good look at his flowers. Both Ernest’s and Doris’ eyes are wide with amazement as they look at the rows of pink amaryllises, the ones they helped plant.

Harry can’t help but snap a couple of pictures of the twins oohing and ahhing over the flowers. He grins, besotted, as he takes a photo of Louis pointing out the flowers to them, Louis’ arm around Doris’ waist as Ernest leans into his side.

They then walk over to where Olive has been growing carnations, rows and rows of stunning pink and orange and purple and yellow flowers.

It’s just as Harry is taking some photos of Olive’s flowers that he hears a familiar voice behind him.

“Hey, Harry!”

Harry turns around, a smile breaking across his face as he sees Liam and Niall making their way through the crowd.

“Hey!” Harry exclaims, giving them both hugs when they reach him. “What are you guys doing here? I thought you couldn’t make it?”

Harry’s friendships with Liam and Niall have only strengthened since he and Louis started dating. Niall had been thrilled to learn they were together, pleased that he didn’t have to go through with his bumbling blind date plan after all. Liam had also been excited, insisting they double with him and his girlfriend sometime soon.

Harry has kept up his weekly lunches with both Niall and Liam, and he has enjoyed getting to know them. They’re both fun and wild in their own ways, and they always make Harry laugh. Being around them is comfortable and familiar, and Harry feels certain that they are growing into good friends.

He’d invited them both to the flower show, but Liam had a meeting in London over the weekend and Niall had been revising for an upcoming exam. Harry had been disappointed but understood, and therefore hadn’t expected them to show.

“Wouldn’t miss a free barbecue!” Niall chuckles, giving Louis a hug and Jay a kiss on the cheek. “And I got a lot of extra revising done last night so I figured one afternoon off wouldn’t kill me.”

“Yeah and my meeting was cancelled,” Liam explains, the shadow beneath his snapback hiding his eyes. “Apparently the exec has the flu, so she wants to meet next week.”

“Great!” Harry exclaims, before catching himself. “Well, not great that the exec has the flu, but I’m so happy you both could make it!”

“Me too, mate,” Niall agrees easily. “Now, come on, I want to see your world famous flowers.”

Harry directs them back towards his plot, everyone chatting easily as they admire the flowers surrounding them. Harry introduces Niall and Liam to some of the volunteers, knowing they’ve both heard about many of them from Harry’s and Louis’ stories. When he catches Jane’s eye across the garden, she seems overwhelmed to see Harry now surrounded by two other attractive men. The agonized look on her face makes Harry chuckle. She has nothing to worry about – his heart completely belongs to Louis.

Eventually, they get food from the barbecue. Harry stacks his cardboard plate with a hearty looking hamburger, handfuls of crisps, and several slices of juicy watermelon.

“We set up a blanket,” Jay informs him, gesturing towards the small field near the greenhouse where everyone has spread out. Harry joins the Tomlinson-Deakin family, Niall, and Liam on the large blanket, settling comfortably by Louis’ side.

When Harry goes to lean back, his back bumps a large picnic basket.

“What’s this?” Harry teases, hand reaching for the lid. “Did you back your own lunch on top of the barbecue you knew would be provided?”

Instead of responding, Louis’ hand flies down on top of Harry’s, slamming the lid of the basket shut before Harry can see what’s inside.

Harry turns his wide, confused eyes to Louis to see a mild expression of panic on his face. “It’s nothing,” Louis explains in a rush. “It’s just something Mum packed.”

“Okay,” Harry replies slowly, but decides not to press. He turns his attention back to the conversation around him, enjoying watching the twins try to throw grapes into Niall’s open mouth, missing by miles and accidentally catching him in the eye.

“Ah!” Niall roars, hands covering his eye in an exaggerated manner, his body rocking back and forth. “My eye! You knocked out my eye!”

The twins laugh delightedly while Jay mutters good-naturedly, “And this is why I tell them not to play with their food.”

Harry chuckles, taking a bite of his watermelon and watching the crowd move around him. It’s just as Susan walks by that Harry gets an idea.

“Hey, Susan!” he calls, standing up and brushing off his jeans. “Could you take a photo for us?”

“Sure, sweetie,” Susan agrees.

Harry thanks her, handing her his phone before returning to the picnic blanket. Everyone looks at the camera with bright, genuine smiles.

Harry settles in by Louis’ side, wrapping his arm snuggly around his waist. Louis leans into his touch, body warm and familiar against him. When Harry looks up at the camera, his smile is so blinding he hopes he doesn’t accidentally break the lens.

Once Susan snaps a photo, she hands the phone back to Harry. He thanks her again, hardly noticing the confused look she is giving both him and Louis.

The photo turns out beautifully, everyone cooing at how happy they all look. Harry grins, saving the photo as his new lock screen.

Just as they finish up eating, Harry hears the feedback from a microphone being plugged in, and the crowd turns their attention towards the greenhouse where Mary Beth, the LHS president, stands, looking like a proud queen surveying her kingdom.

“Hello, everyone,” Mary Beth begins, voice bright and pleasant, “and welcome to this year’s Leeds Flower Show!”

The crowd cheers, families crammed onto picnic blankets as they clap excitedly.

“It’s been an exciting year at the Leeds Horticultural Society, and I know we have an amazing summer ahead of us! I mean, look at how beautiful the Bramley Park volunteers’ flowers are already growing! Absolutely stunning!”

Everyone applauds, a couple of the Bramley volunteers whistling loudly in delight.

Mary Beth goes on to recount the LHS’ success since the last Leeds Flower Show, saying they’ve experienced both an increase in membership and an increase in funding, which promises for an even stronger and more active society.

Harry beams as he listens to Mary Beth praise the society’s efforts, feeling a surge of pride rush through his chest knowing that he contributed in at least some capacity to the society’s growth.

Where Harry’s hand is resting against the blanket, he feels Louis’ hand brush over his. Harry turns his attention away from Mary Beth, glancing at Louis. Louis smiles back at him, Ernest resting in his lap. Louis keeps his right arm wrapped loosely around Ernest’s waist to support him, but with his left hand, he laces together his and Harry’s fingers, giving a gentle squeeze. Harry smiles shyly, squeezing Louis’ hand back as he returns his attention to Mary Beth.

“We have a couple of awards to give out this year,” Mary Beth announces, gesturing to a table next to her with some small trophies. “It is important to note that the LHS values every single one of its members equally, but we wanted to recognize a couple of members who have really made a difference this year to our community.”

Mary Beth recognizes a couple of members who made significant donations to the society over the past year, Harry applauding along with everyone else. She announced several members, including Michael and Rebecca, who had volunteered over five hundred hours in the past twelve months. Harry cheers loudly for his friends, smiling as they bashfully receive their trophies.

“And now,” Mary Beth says as the applause dies down. “I want to present an award to someone who is very special to me. About five months ago, I received a call from a good friend in Manchester telling me that a member of the MHS was moving to Leeds.”

Harry’s breath catches as Mary Beth’s words sink in, Louis squeezing his hand in excitement.

“Elizabeth told me about this young man who was hard working, dedicated, and most importantly, that he was someone who spread love and joy wherever he went. She told me that he was nervous about moving and that he didn’t know anyone in Leeds, and that she recommended that he check out the LHS.

“Well, a month or so later, I received a call from this young man, asking if he could join the society. Of course, I said yes, and I’m so pleased I did. He has brought so much joy to the Leeds Horticultural Society – always working diligently, helping clean up after meetings, and showing everyone in the society kindness and friendship.

“That is why, this year, we’ve created a new award, an award for ‘Most Inspirational Member.’ And I am very pleased to say that this award goes to Harry Styles!”

The crowd erupts into cheers, the noise a roaring buzz in Harry’s ears. He’s hardly conscious of his eyes welling up with tears as Louis squeezes his hand encouragingly. “Go on, Harry!” Louis laughs, eyes crinkling with fondness. “Go accept your award!”

Shocked and overwhelmed, Harry clambers clumsily to his feet, making his way through the cheering crowd to Mary Beth. He laughs wetly as he approaches her, Mary Beth giving him a tight hug.

“Thank you,” Harry says earnestly as Mary Beth pats his back.

“You absolutely deserve it,” she replies as she leans back. “We’re so happy to have you.”

Mary Beth steps back, picking up a trophy from the table and handing it to Harry. As he accepts it, the crowd bursts into a fresh round of applause and cheers, as if Harry has just won an Olympic gold medal for Great Britain. But as Harry holds the gleaming trophy in his hands, he does feel like he’s won a gold medal.

From the back of the crowd, a mischievous and achingly familiar voice calls out, “Speech!”

Harry blushes, hoping no one else heard Louis’ teasing request. But unfortunately, the crowd catches on, laughing and echoing Louis’ cry for a speech.

Mary Beth chuckles, giving Harry’s arm a nudge and holding out the microphone towards him.

Harry shyly accepts the microphone, laughing nervously as everyone quiets down to hear what he has to say.

“Um,” Harry begins eloquently. He looks down at the trophy in his slightly shaking hand and smiles. “Um, wow.” The crowd laughs, and Harry wishes he had a free hand to run through his hair, to fix the loose strands. “Thank you so much. This is so incredibly thoughtful of everyone.” Harry swallows, feeling a lump well up in his throat. “I didn’t expect this at all, and I am just so incredibly touched.” He takes a deep breath. “Like Mary Beth said, I moved here only recently, and it hasn’t been the easiest transition to make. I was scared to move here and had no idea what to expect. But then I joined the LHS and met all you wonderful people and I just feel so lucky.”

His eyes flash across the audience, and even through the crowd, he can see Louis’ expression clearly. His smile is wide, and Harry knows, even from this distance, that the corners of his eyes are adorably crinkled in fond delight. Smiling, Harry keeps his gaze on Louis as he continues, “I have met the most amazing people through my time at the LHS. People who make me feel so happy and cared for. Moving to Leeds was such a huge change for me. At first, I had no idea how it could ever feel like home. But through the people I’ve met here, it finally does. I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.”

Louis’ smile seems to grow impossibly brighter, and for a moment, Harry forgets about everyone around them. It’s just him and Louis.

But then the crowd begins cheering with loud, raucous applause, and Harry is pulled back into the moment, smiling bashfully. “So, yeah. Thank you so, so much.”

He hands the microphone back to Mary Beth, and she gives him one final hug as the crowd cheers. He makes his way back to his blanket, receiving pats on the back and words of congratulations as he passes by his friends.

When he finally returns to his blanket, he is greeted with enthusiastic hugs and cheers. Niall and Liam give him big hugs, Jay kisses his cheek, and Doris and Ernest try to climb all over him. Harry can’t help but grin, thanking them all as he makes his way back to Louis.

Louis’ smile seems like it’s permanently etched into his face, wide and genuine and so pleased.

“Congrats,” Louis murmurs, kissing his cheek as Harry settles in by his side.

Harry smiles, overcome with the urge to be close to Louis. Forgetting everyone around him and no longer caring that the other volunteers don’t know they’re in a relationship, Harry turns his head to catch Louis’ mouth in a chaste kiss. Louis freezes, but only momentarily, quickly melting into the kiss and reaching up to thumb at Harry’s cheekbone.

“Thank you,” Harry murmurs against Louis’ lips as he pulls back.

“For what?” Louis asks, eyes a bit glassy as he searches Harry’s face.

“Just for being you,” Harry replies. Louis smiles fondly, and Harry has to kiss him one more time before turning his attention back to Mary Beth.

She wraps up her speech soon after, telling everyone to help themselves to more food and to enjoy the rest of the afternoon.

The crowd begins to mill about, a pleasant buzz of chatter filling the air. Harry stands up, lifting his arms above his head and stretching side to side. Liam and Niall head off to grab some more food, while Doris and Ernest are fast asleep in Jay’s lap, the warm summer sun and excitement filled afternoon draining them.

Louis stands up as well, taking Harry’s hand in his. “Harry, let’s –”

“Harry Styles!”

Louis’ words are cut off abruptly by a shrill shriek. Harry spins around and sees Jane walking determinedly towards him, several other Bramley volunteers on her heels.

Jane freezes before them, staring at Harry’s and Louis’ clasped hands. “What is this?” she demands, gesturing wildly towards them.

Harry laughs awkwardly, running his free hand through his hair. “Um –”

“You two boys have been absolutely ridiculous lately!” Jane exclaims, a small crowd of volunteers gathering curiously around her. Harry sees Susan looking on uncomfortably, while Michael, Rebecca, and Joe look intrigued. Olive stands up slowly from the blanket, standing by Louis’ side.

“Week in and week out we watch you two do nothing but flirt!” Jane continues, voice high pitched. “And yet you lead us all to believe that nothing is going on between you! And now Harry and your speech – it was an absolutely lovely speech, darling, we’re so happy to have you – but you so clearly directed it to Louis and now I see you boys kiss! What is going on? You’re not getting out of it this time!”

Harry catches Louis’ eye, both grinning as they bite at their lips. They both burst into laughter, and Harry feels like he could float away with happiness.

“We’re together,” Harry confesses through his laughter.

“Yeah,” Louis agrees, tugging Harry towards him so that he can wrap an arm around his waist. “We’ve been together for a little while now.”

“We just wanted to keep it to ourselves,” Harry explains when he looks at Jane’s surprised expression. “And after you said you wouldn’t try to lock us in sheds anymore or whatever else you planned, we decided we were safe to just keep it between us. At least for a little while.”

Jane stares, stunned for a moment. Then her arms fall to her side, a happy cry escaping her lips. “Oh, you wonderful boys!” she exclaims, stepping forward to wrap her arms around both of them. “I couldn’t be happier for you!”

“Thank you,” Harry chuckles, hugging her back.

“Honestly,” Jane says, leaning back. “The only reason I did what I did was because I thought you two would be so happy together. And you seem it. You really do. I hope my meddling didn’t get in the way of any of it, because I’m just so happy for you. Genuinely, I am.”

Harry feels his eyes welling up with fresh tears, giving Jane another hug. “Thank you,” he repeats. “And we’re very happy.”

“Good, I’m so glad,” Jane replies. When she leans back, her eyes scan the crowd mischievously. “Now where did your two other hot, young friends go? I bet my granddaughter would love them.”

Harry laughs and rolls his eyes fondly, Louis chuckling at his side. They accept hugs and congratulations from other members of the LHS, some telling Louis faux-sternly to take good care of Harry, with Louis’ adamant promises that they have nothing to worry about.

A couple of other members of the LHS come up to talk to Harry, to congratulate him on his award and tell him how pleased they are to have met him. Harry accepts each compliment with genuine thanks, giving out hugs left and right and telling everyone how much they mean to him.

The crowd around them eventually thins, everyone drifting off to get more food or play in the park with their grandkids.

When they’re finally alone again, Harry turns to Louis. Louis smiles at him, the picnic basket from earlier in one hand and his other extended towards Harry. Grinning, Harry accepts it easily. Louis tugs him across the field, away from the crowds. They pass the greenhouse, rounding the corner to the gardens, rows and rows of brilliantly beautiful flowers spread out before them.

Louis leads Harry past all of them, clutching his hand tightly. When they finally stop, it’s at a familiar point. Harry’s flowers.

They stand side by side, alone amongst the flowers, as they gaze at Harry’s creation. Louis’ thumb strokes back and forth across Harry’s knuckles, the pressure firm yet comfortable.

After a moment, Louis clears his throat. When he speaks, his voice shakes slightly. “I’m trying to find courage around you again.” He turns his head to the side, looking up at Harry.

“Why?” Harry asks, giving Louis’ hand a squeeze. “Thought I didn’t make you nervous anymore.”

Louis laughs shyly. “I think you’ll always make me nervous,” he confesses quietly, “but in a good way. The best way.”

He takes another deep breath and then drops Harry’s hand, turning his body so that they’re facing one another. “These are for you,” Louis holds out the picnic basket towards him.

Confusion wrinkles Harry’s brow as he accepts the basket. “Thank you,” he says hesitantly, opening the lid of the basket, “but we just ate, so I don’t know if I’ll want another picnic –”

His words catch in his throat as he sees what’s inside. Nestled snuggly in the picnic basket is a bouquet of flowers, all different shapes and colors, but all beautiful. With careful fingers, Harry pulls the bouquet out of the basket, placing the basket gently on the ground.

Lavender roses, red chrysanthemums, yellow sunflowers, and red tulips make up the mismatched bouquet, but Harry thinks it’s the most wonderful thing he’s ever seen.

“Do you –” Louis starts nervously. “Do you know what they mean?”

Tears catch in Harry’s lashes, nodding as he swallows thickly. “Louis –”

“They mean love,” Louis cuts in, voice rushed yet hopeful. “They all represent love. Um,” he pauses, as if he’s trying to remember. “Lavender roses mean love at first sight, and red chrysanthemums mean romantic love. Sunflowers symbolize dedicated love, and tulips.” He huffs a quiet laugh. “Well, you know that tulips mean true love.” He looks up at Harry, his blue eyes sparkling. “Perfect love.”

A tear slides down Harry’s cheek, his hands shaking as he holds the bouquet of flowers to his chest.

“It’s my way of saying,” Louis smiles, fingers running through his fringe, “I love you, Harry. I love you very much.”

“Oh, Louis,” Harry gasps wetly, cupping Louis’ cheek and leaning forward to kiss him. Louis smiles into the kiss, flowers crushed between their bodies as they hold one another. “I love you, too,” Harry murmurs. “Very much.”

Louis laughs happily, kissing Harry again and pulling them close together.

“I fell for you the day we met,” Louis confesses against Harry’s lips. “I just saw you right there,” he nods towards the vibrant plot of Harry’s flowers, “hiding with my sister and a crown of flowers in your hair. I thought you were the loveliest thing I’d ever seen. I fell for you then and there, and have only fallen for you even more every day since. Been wanting to tell you for so long.”

Harry giggles, pressing his smile to Louis’ neck. Louis laughs too, hands stroking up and down Harry’s back. “I love you,” Harry kisses the words into Louis’ neck, overwhelmed with happiness at finally being able to finally say what he’s been feeling for weeks.

Louis catches his mouth in another sweet kiss, holding each other close in a tender embrace.

They only break apart when a familiar squeal cuts through the air. Harry and Louis only have enough time to step back before Doris and Ernest come running towards them, crashing into their legs.

“Louis, let’s play tag!” Ernest demands, tugging on the hem of his brother’s shirt.

“Yeah!” Doris agrees, grasping Harry’s hand. “We can be it and we can chase you!”

Harry laughs, glancing at Louis who’s watching him fondly.

“Wanna go play?” Louis asks with a spark of mirth in his eyes.

“Definitely,” Harry agrees easily.

As Doris and Ernest run ahead of them, Louis slips his hand into Harry’s. Harry places his flowers back into the basket, laying them gently on their side. They rejoin their group, and thankfully their momentary absence didn’t seem to be noticed too much.

“Checking out the flowers, eh?” Niall teases, nudging Louis with his elbow.

Louis laughs brightly, and Harry giggles alongside him.

“Will you play too?” Doris asks Niall. “Please?”

“Sure,” Niall agrees easily, Liam echoing. “Never turn down a chance to play tag.”

“Yay!” the twins cheer, tugging their group into an open section of the field and beginning to chase each other around.

“Oh no!” Louis gasps when Ernest turns on them. He tugs Harry’s hand and they break into a run, laughing giddily. “Don’t let him catch us! Every man for himself!”

But he negates his words by keeping a tight hold of Harry’s hand as they run, sun warm on their faces as their feet hit the ground in a solid rhythm.

They pass Liam, and Ernest decides to start chasing him, giving Harry and Louis a moment to catch their breath.

Harry’s breathing soon evens out, watching the twins chase each other around the park with delighted laughter. A couple of other children join in, even some of the elderly volunteers deciding to join the fun. Harry laughs as he watches Doris catch Niall.

“You alright?” Louis asks, fingers still laced with Harry’s.

He’s referring to their brief outburst of exercise, but as Harry looks around him, he can’t help but think he means something else entirely. Surrounded by people Harry cares about – the volunteers who welcomed him so openly to the LHS, Liam and Niall who he befriended so easily, Ernest and Doris who always make him laugh with their infectious enthusiasm, and Louis, the man he has grown to love – Harry is more than alright. He feels a deep settled contentment, blissful and peaceful.

“Yeah,” Harry agrees easily. “I’m alright.” He turns to look at Louis, a breathtaking smile across his handsome face. Harry squeezes Louis’ hand, love unfurling like a powerful wave in his chest. “I’m happy. I’m home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! 
> 
> [Tumblr](http://casuallyhl.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Tumblr post [here](http://casuallyhl.tumblr.com/post/164684590533/title-homegrown-author-casuallyhl-pairing)
> 
> Flower meanings taken from [this](http://www.theflowerexpert.com/content/aboutflowers/flower-meanings) helpful website!


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